Ashes and Wine
by CrimsonShepard
Summary: Is there a chance...a fragment of light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to fight? Is there a chance you may change your mind? Jibbs. After Paris. AU.
1. Prologue

_September 2000_

More than a year ago, she had stood on the Pont Des Arts with him. Now, she was alone. He wasn't with her, and he wouldn't ever be with her. She'd cling to the memories of them in Marseilles, Paris, and all the other cities where their love had grown. A gentle breeze blew around her as she drew in a shaky breath; looking up to the cloudy night sky illuminated by the Eiffel Tower. Jenny rested her elbows on the railing of the lover's bridge and let her thoughts wander as she watched the twinkling lights of the tower. Her thoughts drifted to him, but it was over. The redhead brushed her bangs away from her eyes and slid her hands into the pockets of her coat. She shivered, remembering the reason for her journey. With quivering hands, she opened her bag and her fingertips touched the cold metal. She bit her bottom lip hard to keep the tears from flowing freely. Her eyes stung as she removed the small urn. The urn was cast in a soft heart shape and hand engraved with bands of leaves along the outer edges – simple and fine looking. "I have to move on," she whispered, turning the urn over in her hands and twisting the opening on the back. "I love you," Jenny murmured faintly and looked below to the Seine. With a heavy heart, she let the wind carry the ashes away and into the river's lazy current. As Jenny wiped a tear from her green eyes, a lock on the bridge caught her eye. Weathered and worn, the sturdy lock still had the initials perfectly inscribed – _J+J._

He wouldn't ever love her again, but their love would remain on a lock on a bridge in Paris.


	2. I

_February 2000_

She hissed sharply in pain, her eyes darting open. She clutched the bed sheets so hard her knuckles turned white before releasing the innocent linen and pushed her sweaty bangs from her forehead. Jenny cursed the nightmares that plagued her whenever she closed her eyes. She pushed herself out of bed, grimacing when her feet hit the cold of the floor. She lightly rubbed the bandaging on her thigh in an attempt to soothe the dull but still agonizing pain that radiated from the wound. The quiet enveloped her as she padded to the downstairs of the townhouse. Once upon a time, the house had been alive with the sound of a family, love and laughter filling every corner. Now, only ghosts and shadows inhabited the home with her. Jenny flicked on the light in the study and opened the decanter of bourbon, rolling her neck as it poured into the crystal cut tumbler. She placed the bottle onto the shelf and braced her palms against the cabinet. Jenny closed her eyes and let out a breath before everything bubbled over, and the redhead screamed in frustration and knocked the bourbon filled glass to the floor. She didn't need to drink.

At twenty-eight, Jenny Shepard was not where she wanted to be. She was supposed to be in Europe running black op missions, but she was suspended _indefinitely_ – one wrong decision had caused chaos and death. Her NCIS career was on the line. In fact, it was probably about to topple straight off that line – very soon. She fell into the worn leather armchair in front of the fireplace and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. On a sleepless night in the past, she could call _him_. Tonight, she couldn't. Jethro didn't even know she was stateside, anyway he'd probably found a redheaded replacement for her. Jenny rubbed her face and sighed heavily, cursing herself for falling in love with that man. She stared at the broken glass on the floor and sunk deeper into the chair. The tears rolled down her cheeks, and she cried out of disappointment, anger, and despair. Paris had changed everything and not for the better.

On the other side of town, in another suburb, and in another empty house, Gibbs turned the folded letter over and over in his hands. He knew the words; the Dear John letter was permanently ingrained in his memory. She didn't want him; she didn't want to live with him. She hadn't returned to D.C. with him as he'd expected; Jenny Shepard chose her career. He'd woken up cold and alone in an empty bed in the tiny Paris apartment they'd shared. Gibbs took a swig from the mason jar and let the bourbon scorch his throat as he attempted to erase the memory from his mind. The walls of the basement felt like they were closing in on him, and he needed to get out. He left his home and opened the door of his beat up old Ford truck, climbing into the driver's seat. Thirty minutes later, he found himself on a familiar street and parked the truck, staring at the pristine townhouse. On restless nights, he found himself drawn to the house, to stare into the darkness until sleep overcame him. Gibbs squinted his eyes as he noticed a light on inside the house. He remained calm. It could be Noemi keeping house late. He moved out of the vehicle when an upstairs light came on. The house should be empty. Stealthily, he approached the townhouse and remembered where the spare key was hidden, slipping inside after unlocking the door. Jethro peered into the darkness of the study and cautiously moved toward the room. He felt a sharp pain to the side of his head, and he fell to the hardwood floor.

The redhead's eyes widened as she stared at the man on the floor at her feet. Jenny closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop thudding in her ears. She looked down at him and winced, dropping the fire poker on the floor with a thud. "Jethro," she said in a breath filled whisper as she knelt down. "Goddammit," she muttered and put her hand over the blood spilling from his head. She darted into the kitchen and returned with a damp cloth, settling onto the floor. Jenny pulled his head onto her lap and held the cloth against the wound she'd inflicted. "Wake up," she pleaded, not wanting to have to call Ducky to come and clean up the mess she had made.

When the stubborn Marine finally regained consciousness, Gibbs opened his eyes slowly and cursed the moments it would take for his surroundings to be in focus. His head hurt like a son of a bitch, and he had no idea who had knocked him out cold. He moved his hand to touch his head and felt slender fingers encompass his wrist.

"Don't," Jenny reprimanded.

He blinked rapidly as she tried to remember where he knew that voice. Jethro knew it; it was a soft voice that haunted him. He tilted his head up and strained his eyes to focus. "Jen?"

"It's me, Jethro," she whispered.

"You're supposed to be in Europe," he stated gruffly.

Jenny rolled her eyes and eased out from under him, letting the back of his head hit the rug-adorned floor. He swore and sat up quickly, ignoring the wooziness he felt from the sudden movement. "Couldn't handle running the show?" he remarked pointedly.

She turned quickly and glared at him. "Don't make me use the fire poker again," she warned.

Jethro took the rag from his head and saw the bloodstains that covered it. He glanced up to her, his eyes meeting those familiar emerald ones he had spent so many nights gazing into. "You hit me?"

"Yes."

"What the hell's the matter with you?" he growled and wondered if he'd need stitches from her assault.

"I thought you were an intruder, Jethro! I'm sorry I didn't shoot you!"

"Jen," he uttered softly. "My head hurts."

Of course, his head hurt. She had clobbered him with an iron fire poker. Jenny shook her head and took the few steps to him. "C'mon," she urged, looping her arm with his to pull him up. Finally, he was on his feet and being escorted out of the study. He stared intently at the redhead holding him up. "Jen, you look different."

Jenny raised an eyebrow at him. She had expected it to be a yelling match – that was if they even saw each other again after Paris. Maybe it would have been a knock down drag out fight if she hadn't inflicted head trauma on him. With minor difficulty, she helped him up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Jethro stopped at the bed and turned his head, awkwardly clearing his throat.

"I can't put you in the guest room. It's too cluttered," she explained and waited for him to get into bed. Moments later, she slid into bed and fluffed the pillows, folding her arms across her chest and staring down at him. "Jethro," Jenny whispered, rolling her eyes when he snored. Hours later, she surrendered to the arms of slumber.

* * *

><p>In the early morning light, Gibbs slowly opened his eyes and groaned. His head throbbed and ached. It felt as though an elephant was repeatedly stomping on his head. He gingerly sat up and looked around, eyes falling on the sleeping redhead beside him. Her back was to him and her hair was across the pillow like spreading wild fire. He had plenty of questions he wanted answers to and things he was dying to say to her. Instead, he silently slipped out of bed.<p>

She rolled over and in the dim light saw him leaving the bedroom. "You're going to slink out?"

"I don't slink," he answered brusquely.

"You are now."

"Guess I should've left a letter on the pillow, but you're better at that than me," he said callously and stared at her. Her eyes flashed with shame before her head dipped. She had been a coward to leave him that way, but she had done what was best for her – or at least so she thought. He had every right to still be angry and bitter with her.

"Jethro, you can yell and scream, but I'm not up for much of a fight," she told him and drew her knees to her chest. For the first time, he noticed the thick bandage wrapped around her thigh and the faint cuts and bruises on her arms and neck. He swallowed and realized how fatigued she seemed, how the light once sparkling in her eyes had dimmed to a point where he couldn't see it anymore.

"Jen, what the hell happened?" he asked, gesturing to the bandage while staring at the healing fingerprint bruises covering her throat.

"I made a bad decision. We were compromised - " she answered and cleared her throat as emotion rose up. "My team," her voice shook, "- my team's dead."

Quietly, Gibbs dropped onto the bed and put his hand on her bare knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You can't help some things. People die every day, Jen."

She shook her head. "It's my fault. Morrow's put me on suspension."

"For that?" he asked incredulously.

Jenny nodded her head and fell silent. She nervously ran her hands through her sleep knotted hair. Gibbs raised a brow and watched her. He hadn't seen her in six months, but he still knew her – still could read her. "Jen," he lowered his voice and peered into her green eyes. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

"I made a mistake in Paris," she admitted, voice hardly more than a whisper.

Gibbs lowered his head as he realized Jenny hadn't said she'd made _two_ mistakes in Paris. It didn't seem as if leaving him – choosing occupation over love - was an error to her. "We got out clean," he replied hoarsely. In the same moment, he was torn. He wanted her to regret leaving him and regret not falling asleep with him every night, but at the same time he wanted her to have made the right decisions, whatever those were, for her. It meant his heartache wasn't for nothing at all.

"You did," Jenny clarified. "I didn't."

He gazed at her in disbelief. She had been unbelievably green when she first became a NCIS agent, but under him, she'd blossomed into a damn fine agent. Jenny Shepard was a professional even if she hadn't been a special agent for as long as he had. Now, he'd learned that she had lied to him after the operation was completed. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Gibbs -," she began, "the intel was bad. We walked into a trap. I led my team into an ambush. Before I was stabbed and strangled, the man called me Clémence," she finished, shivering at the memory of the man's hands at her throat, the searing pain of the knife in her thigh, and drifting into unconsciousness as he whispered that name into her ear. She closed her eyes tightly. "I had orders to get my ass back in the states immediately. You're safe for now. I'm the one that screwed up."

Jethro's blue eyes widened, and he turned pale. That had been her alias on their mission in Paris. It was slowly making sense why Morrow had suspended Jenny. If one cover had been made, the others could have been figured out as well. If his cover was in danger, Morrow would have had him in the office. He shook his head and fiddled with the fabric of the bedspread. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn't shove down the hard feelings he had towards her. She'd broken his heart.

"There's more."

He cursed under his breath and finally lifted his head to look at her. "What?" he asked halfheartedly. He didn't want to know any more; she'd probably told him too much to begin with, but he was a federal agent with curiosity in his nature.

"I'm pregnant."

"_What?_" he demanded, giving her a hard look and setting his jaw.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated.

Gibbs rubbed a hand along his jaw tensely and processed her words. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He was still pissed with her and still drowning in bourbon over her. Now, he had this to deal with as well. "Jen," he said and swallowed hard. "How far along?"

She rested her head against the headboard of the bed and didn't want to answer him. She could feel his anger pulsating the room, and her answer would only cause it to surge.

"How far, Jenny?"

"Five months," she finally answered. "Almost five months."

He swore and glared at her. His eyes raked over her, stopping at her middle. She didn't look pregnant, but he couldn't tell much from the faded, loose Army t-shirt she had worn for bed. "Were you gonna tell me?"

"I don't know, Jethro. I don't know," she answered honestly, albeit tiredly. "I didn't know. I'm still processing it, and I didn't plan it."

He laughed hollowly. "You planned on never seeing me again."

She ignored his truthful jab at her disappearing act and sighed heavily. "I don't want a baby," she admitted. To not want a baby made her feel like the scum of the earth, but she had lied to him enough already. "But it's happened."

"Jen, we were careful."

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "We were _not_ careful, Jethro. We were not. We were at each other like crazed horny teenagers when we had a free moment. You know it's true."

He smirked. He knew she was on the pill then, but he didn't watch over her like a hawk to make sure she'd taken it daily. Mistakes happened, but a baby wasn't a mistake – ever - to him. He glanced at her and took a deep breath. She looked so fragile and vulnerable, and he didn't care for it. It wasn't the woman he knew. "Hey," he said softly. "We'll figure it out."

Jenny looked at him with watery eyes and leaned forward, falling heavily into his chest. Hesitantly, Jethro circled his arms around her. "We'll figure it out, Jen," he whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

* * *

><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat on the porch of Doctor Donald Mallard's home. He shuffled his boots on the bricks underneath his feet, listening to the faint scrubbing that came from within. The corgis ran around him barking and growling. He shook his head and listened to Ducky's voice get nearer as the medical examiner bickered with his elderly mother.<p>

"Sorry for that, Jethro," Ducky said.

"No need to apologize, Duck," Gibbs replied, moving his leg from the corgi gnawing his pants' leg.

"What happened?"

"Fire poker," Gibbs answered bluntly.

Ducky frowned and set about cleaning the wound. He noted the dried blood and eyed his colleague suspiciously. "When did this happen?"

"Last night."

"You'll require three or four stitches, Jethro," Dr. Mallard told him. Gibbs waved his hand, and Ducky proceeded to stitch him up. Jethro hissed and grimaced, "Duck!"

"Stop fidgeting," he scolded. "What did you do to Stephanie to cause this?"

"Wasn't Stephanie," Gibbs mumbled.

"Oh?" Ducky inquired with a raised eyebrow. He didn't meddle into Jethro's unstable and unpredictable love life, but he was curious what female had bashed the side of his head with a fire poker.

"Jenny."

Ducky placed his hand on Gibbs' shoulder and tilted his head down at him critically, examining him with a doctor's eye. "Jethro, you may have a concussion. Jennifer is in Europe," the Scotsman stated slowly.

Jethro gave his old friend a solid glare and shifted in the chair. "Jen's back, Duck."

"Oh dear," he said aloud and continued sewing. Ducky was one of the few that knew what had gone on between the pair. He'd been witness to half of it with his own eyes and had been told the other half by one agent or the other.

"And pregnant," Jethro added solemnly.

"_Oh_ dear," Ducky gasped and quickly apologized when Gibbs jerked his head from the needle stabbing him. "Sorry, sorry, Jethro. Slip of the hands."

"Watch the needle," Gibbs growled and shook his head. "Are you done yet?"

"Not quite," Ducky muttered, falling silent to concentrate on his work. The medical examiner finally finished and put the instruments away, sitting down. "And you are the father," he surmised. There were plenty of nights that the pair had kept him awake with rambunctious romping in the bedroom.

Gibbs nodded his head and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. The man rubbed his forehead tensely and slumped his shoulders. "She's five months."

"And the two of you are," the older man paused, trying to find the delicate words to address the relationship of his coworkers. He knew Jethro was still pining and brooding over the young redhead but what Jenny was feeling he didn't know.

Gibbs interrupted his thoughts. "I don't know. I'm still mad as hell at her," he declared and glanced to the dog at his feet. Jethro picked up the stick, throwing it off into the yard for Contessa. He watched the dog run and retrieve the stick. "She left me, Duck."

"Jethro, has Jennifer asked anything of you?" he asked carefully. Ducky quite liked the woman. She was intelligent, fierce, stubborn, and didn't take any nonsense, especially from Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Something he respected and thought his friend needed. He assumed that was probably what reeled Jethro in along with them being holed up in tight places doing monotonous tasks such as running surveillance and photographing Lebanese trawlers.

"No," Gibbs answered quickly. He was all of a sudden incensed that Jenny _had_ _not_ asked anything of him. He was the father; he wasn't just a sperm donor. If she thought she was going to treat him that way, Jenny had another thing coming. "I'm gonna be there for her. She's not doing this by herself."

"Whether she likes it or not," Ducky concluded, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

"Yeah," Jethro affirmed with determination. He stood up and walked with purpose to his truck. Ducky watched Gibbs speed off and coughed from the dust the wheels had caused to swirl around in the air. He hoped his dear old friend wouldn't come back to him needing stitches to the other side of his head. The man knew that neither Jethro nor Jenny cared to be told what to do, no matter how much they needed to be reprimanded or guided.

* * *

><p>Jenny stepped out of the shower and absentmindedly dried herself off. She examined her thigh, running her fingers carefully over the healing wound. The injury was nearly healed but still tender. She applied the prescribed antibiotic cream to her thigh and a fresh bandage. Jenny looked into the mirror and examined the bruises on her neck, grateful to see that the marks were less dark blue and purple than they had been. She turned to the side and ran a hand over her slightly swollen abdomen. She didn't know how she and Jethro would figure things out. Honestly, Jenny was still conflicted over him finding out she was having his child. It had been easier to tell the Director of NCIS than Gibbs that she was pregnant. She hadn't been ready to tell him, but Jethro always did have the annoying habit of finding things out before she had the nerve to let him know. The thought of her and Gibbs raising a child together made her laugh. Her with no maternal know-how and the surly functional mute would make parents of the year. With a smirk, she walked into the master bedroom, rummaged through her drawers, and changed into a simple tank top and pair of shorts. Jenny grabbed a bottle of lotion and began smoothing the cream over her arms and legs only to jump out of her skin moments later. Her Glock was quickly removed from the drawer of the nightstand, and she waited as her heart pounded in her chest.<p>

"Jen, it's me!" Jethro yelled as he jogged up the stairs.

She bit her bottom lip hard and put the gun on the nightstand, calming herself down. He came into view and leaned against the doorframe, immediately noticing the firearm and glad he'd announced himself. The man would hate for Ducky to remove a bullet from him although the Scotsman had done it before.

"Jethro, you cannot barge in here whenever you please! Just because you knocked me up doesn't mean you're allowed to throw polite social etiquette to the wind!"

"Polite – _what_?"

"Call before you come over!" she shouted, shaking her head at him. She would like to stay in disbelief, but she could believe it all too well.

He disappeared from the doorway and jogged down the stairs. She arched a brow in confusion when she heard the front door close. The house phone began to ring, and she answered. "Cute, Jethro. Get in here," she demanded into the phone before hanging up. With a grin, Gibbs came back into the house and stepped into the doorway of bedroom, lazily resting against the frame, just looking into the room staring at the woman in his line of sight. Jenny felt more and more uncomfortable as he intensely gazed at her. He loved to see her just out of the shower with a fresh face and wet, messy hair, but something else had his attention. "Why are you staring at me like that?" she snapped.

"I couldn't tell this morning, but," he stopped, cleared his throat, and gestured to her middle.

Jenny nodded her head softly and walked closer to him. "Chinese?" she asked casually. She didn't want to discuss how pregnant she looked. The pregnancy could still be easily hidden.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered and followed her down the stairs. She entered the kitchen and made him a cup of coffee. He accepted the cup and took a long sip as she leaned against the counter, facing him. "Jen, we gotta talk."

"I know," she answered quietly.

"I'm the father. I'm gonna be there for you and her or him. I don't care if you like it or not."

She opened her mouth to argue, but she had no argument. It would only be a waste of time. Gibbs was an old fashioned guy even though he was a little rough around the edges. If Jenny was truly honest with herself, she couldn't go through this pregnancy without him. She _needed_ him. "Okay," she said.

"We talk. We make decisions together. I mean it, Jenny."

"Okay," she repeated. "We'll do what's right for it." She wasn't brave enough to broach the subject of _them_, but Jen felt like she should say something. She chewed her bottom lip and rubbed her foot against the back of her calf. "Jethro, we don't…you and I…we can be parents without being together…romantically. Right?"

He bowed his head, not giving her a clear answer. It hurt a bit to know she was carrying his child and still didn't want to be with him. He moved his index finger along the rim of the coffee cup. "Yeah, Jen. Figured you didn't want me when you said you didn't want a baby," he said. His words came out more bitter and cross than he'd expected, but she couldn't blame him.

The redhead turned around and opened a cabinet, pulling out a mug and a tin filled with various bags of tea. Her eyes burned, and she licked her lips. She wouldn't cry in front of him; she wouldn't allow him to know how much that hurt her.

"You said you didn't want a baby," Jethro reminded carefully. He stared at the back of her head, seeing her head move in a short nod. He heard the restrained choke of a sob and swore under his breath at himself. Gibbs pushed out his chair and came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He felt her tense under his touch. He hated that this was where their relationship had turned to. "Jen," he whispered near her ear. "Hey, Jenny. I didn't mean – hell," he broke off, feeling as if an apology for being a downright bastard would do no good.

"I didn't at first."

He smoothed his hands over her shoulders and kneaded out the tension with his thumbs, urging her to talk. "What changed?" he asked.

Jenny stopped picking through the bags of tea and braced her palms on the counter. She lowered her head and closed her eyes tightly. "I went…I made an appointment for an abortion. Jethro, I-I couldn't do it. Lying on that cold table – I couldn't do it. I thought an abortion would be what was right for me, and I," she stopped abruptly, voice cracking under the weight of the recollection. Jenny turned to face him and looked at him through tears. "It wasn't best for me to leave you. I was wrong. I was a coward to leave a letter. I'm sorry."

Gibbs enclosed her in his arms and kissed her temple. She hid her face in his chest – coffee, bourbon, and wood assaulting her senses. The familiar scents reminded her of the comfort he had enveloped her in during their time in Europe. Finally, she relaxed in his arms and listened to his heartbeat, remembering how she'd fall asleep with her head on his chest just listening to his breathing and his heart beating. He stroked her hair and pressed his lips against her forehead. His blue eyes widened when she quickly jerked her head and looked at him. "What were you doing here last night? Were you sitting outside my house?"

He cleared his throat nervously and looked down at her. "No."

She folded her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side, glaring at him through her lashes. "Were you sitting outside my house?"

"What's it matter, Jen?"

"Were you?"

"Yeah," Jethro answered, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Why?" she inquired.

Jethro shrugged his shoulders and turned around, opening the cabinets to find the teakettle. "I'll make you a cup of tea," he offered, lamely attempting to change the subject.

"You don't know how to make tea, and you're not changing the subject," she replied smartly.

"I got lost."

"Jethro," she said his name in exasperation.

"Jen," he rumbled.

"Fine," Jenny responded curtly and let the matter be dropped. She knew that tone. She sat down and instructed him on how to make tea just how she liked it. Silence fell between them. Gibbs occasionally glanced back at her. In a way, he was making sure she wouldn't run out on him a second time. Of course, it could all be a dream, and he'd wake up holding an empty bottle of bourbon in a half built boat any moment. He shook his head and handed her the cup of tea.

"Thank you," she said and slipped off the stool. Jenny opened the fridge and took out the milk and sugar for the tea. Her breath hitched, and she pressed her hand against her abdomen.

"Jenny?"

She didn't answer him and didn't move. Jenny swallowed hard and pressed her hand against her stomach more. "I think I felt it move," she murmured.

"It? Jen, it's a baby. You can call the baby a _baby_."

"Excuse me, I still haven't gotten used to the idea that I'm having one!" she shouted at him, slamming the refrigerator door closed. Jethro didn't say a word and sipped his coffee. He was a patient man; he'd let the mood swing fade. Jenny muttered an apology and poured a little milk into her tea. "This wasn't a part of my five point plan. You weren't in it either. I don't know how I'll ever," she paused, dumping two spoonfuls of sugar into the mug as she contemplated how she was going to complete her statement. "I don't know how I'll ever figure this all out."

"That's what you have me for," Gibbs told her calmly. He reached out and squeezed her hand, giving her an easy smile. He didn't know if they would get back together, but he knew they'd do what was best, and they'd do that together.


	3. II

It was late when Gibbs tiptoed into the house. He carefully dropped his keys onto the table in the foyer, trying to make as little noise as possible, and began moving towards the stairs until he noticed the faint light from the living room. Jethro entered the room and saw Jenny's sleeping form on the sofa, illuminated only by the television light. He smirked in amusement and strolled over, lightly sitting down on the sofa. He chuckled at the VHS tape of _Pretty Woman_ and the half melted carton of rocky road ice cream that were balanced beside her. "Jenny," Gibbs whispered. She murmured in her sleep, and he gently shook her shoulder. "Stop," the redhead whined, pushing at his hand. "Sleepy," she mumbled. With a sigh, Jethro rolled his eyes and removed the book that was across her middle. He marked her page and tossed it onto the coffee table then he stood up and crouched down, so he could lift the redhead up from the couch.

Halfway up the stairs, Jenny woke, hazily glancing up to Jethro's face. A slight smiled touched her lips as she blinked away the sleep from her eyes and rubbed her face against the fabric covering Jethro's shoulder. "Missed you," she spoke softly, closing her eyes and snuggling against him. Gibbs stopped at the top of the stairs and stared down at her. She'd drifted back off to sleep, but she had left him perplexed. He'd been undercover after getting a tip that someone was using a Navy payroll office to launder money, and he hadn't seen her in over a week, but Gibbs had simply assumed she'd enjoy his absence. He carried her into the bedroom and placed her into bed, tucking her in. Jenny nestled into the pillows and sighed his name. He bent down and kissed her temple. "Night, Jen," he said softly and walked to the door.

"Jethro?" she mumbled.

Gibbs heard the sleep riddled voice and glanced behind him. Jenny sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah, it's me."

"Stay," she requested and reached her hand out to him.

He took his hand off the doorknob and shuffled over to the bed. "Jen," he said gruffly, attempting to find the words to reject her offer but Jethro had missed her. He'd missed hearing her complaints and her protests of him dropping in unexpectedly. It wouldn't hurt to share a bed with her. There wouldn't be any funny business; it would be platonic.

"Please?"

"Okay, Jen, okay," Gibbs answered. He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. Jenny watched him slide under the covers, and when he was comfortably settled, she inched closer to him. He arched a brow when Jenny nestled herself against him like second skin and draped a leg over him – just like she always used to do in Europe. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. Jethro stayed awake thinking about how they'd been dancing close to crossing the nonsexual line, but he could resist the temptation. When Jenny's breathing evened out, Gibbs put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

Hours later, the smell of coffee brewing woke him from the arms of slumber. Jethro squinted at the clock and rubbed his eyes, sitting up and stretching out with a groan. He touched the empty spot next to him – cold. He shook his head and toddled downstairs, following the coffee smell. Gibbs stumbled into the kitchen and brushed past Jenny, walking straight to the coffeemaker.

"Morning," she greeted and smirked at him. His graying hair was sticking up all over the place, and she knew damn well he wouldn't say one word until he guzzled a cup. He took the steaming hot mug of coffee she had all ready for him and breathed in the heavenly aroma of Jamaican blend. Jenny chewed her bottom lip as she watched him chug the hot coffee as if he were gulping down cold water.

Gibbs turned his head and glimpsed at the redhead to his right. He poured more coffee into the mug and rested against the countertop. "How long you been up? It's 6AM, Jen, on a Saturday."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe 4 or 4:30," she told him. "I woke up and couldn't get comfortable. It's your fault."

"My fault?" he questioned in confusion.

"You did this -" she stopped talking and tapped her fingers against her rounded stomach, "- to me. It's why I couldn't sleep. Therefore, your fault." Her lower back ached, and she swore she could feel her uterus stretching and expanding with each minute. It seemed like the baby was an early bird. For the past three mornings, she'd been up too early from somersaults, rolls, and flutters. She didn't understand how something the size of a papaya could cause her so much discomfort.

He rolled his eyes. It had taken the both of them, so it wasn't his _entire_ fault. Gibbs kept his mouth shut and drained the mug of coffee. While he poured a third cupful, Jenny sauntered up behind him. "But it was nice not to wake up alone," she confessed softly, running her hands up and down his back. He could feel her unbelievably close against him, invading his personal space.

Jethro turned around and looked into her eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden from the look on her face and her actions. "Jen, what are you doin'?" he asked hoarsely.

She glanced up to him through her lashes and gently shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, Jethro. It could be the hormones making me crazy, but I want more," she stated ominously, hunger in her eyes.

"More?" he asked in a gulp, fighting the urge to kiss her.

"I want more of you," she told him. Her words crashed into each other like a three car collision. Jenny rose to the tips of her toes, slipping her arms around his neck as she kissed him feverishly, sucking and nipping at his lips, her body impossibly close against his. Jethro clutched her waist, sliding his tongue against hers. They kissed until their lips were red and raw, nearly bruised. "Jethro," she sighed, trying to catch her breath. "I need you," Jenny said bluntly. Her hormones were raging. "Now."

Gibbs dipped his head in agreement, raking his lips and teeth over her throat. She gasped when he sat her down on the counter. Her hands slipped into the waistband of his boxers, and he groaned loudly at her touch. Jenny pushed them down and opened her legs. He slipped inside of her easily. Her body welcomed him like an old familiar friend as she wound herself around him. He braced his palms on the counter as he crashed into her again and again, grimacing in pleasure when her nails dug into his back. Jethro moved an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She arched her back and clenched tightly around him. He eased his pace, ignoring her urging for him to go faster and falling into a slow, teasing rhythm. She moaned and couldn't fight it as she tumbled close to the edge, rocking her hips against his. Her body was on fire and seeking culmination. Jethro kissed her heatedly and stared into her eyes. He guided her through the waves, both of them riding the waves of sensation and fulfillment and crying out in release moments later. She bowed her head, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her long red hair spilled over her shoulders as she panted, desperately trying to catch her breath. He eased out of her but still she held onto him. "That was," she panted heavily.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, breathlessly and smugly. He was a satisfied failure at fighting the enticement of Jenny Shepard. If he was honest, he had always had been when it came to her.

"Thank God for hormones," Jenny said and lifted her head to kiss the corner of his mouth. He hooked an arm around her waist and moved her off the counter.

"Go shower," he instructed. "I'll make breakfast."

Jenny shook her head. "Shower with me then make breakfast," she proposed, grasping his arm and tugging him towards her with a smile on her face. He followed behind her. As the two of them climbed the stairs, they slowly realized that this morning had changed their relationship.

* * *

><p>She pushed her feet into his lap and picked out the pieces of sweet and sour chicken with her chopsticks, popping them into her mouth. "Jethro," she began, "You should share your kung-pao chicken with me." He ignored her like he had for the last five minutes, so she dug her toes into the side of his thigh until he gave her a sideways glance in annoyance. "Please, Jethro," she pleaded. They'd very easily fallen into old habits since consummating their new relationship nearly two weeks ago. Gibbs was spending more time in Georgetown than in his basement. He would drop by after work with take-out, and she'd listen to him complain and rant about the new member, Anthony DiNozzo, of his team. Jenny took pleasure in having him with her for most of the week. She felt safe and not so alone. It was nice, and it was comfortable like they'd been before.<p>

"No," he answered and shoved her foot away from him. "And stop that." Every time Jenny begged him to share she'd shoved her bony toes into his thigh. She'd subjected him to watching _Sex and the City_ too.

"I'll stop when you share."

"I'm not sharing, Jen. You're not sharing."

Jen smirked and moved her legs, leaning forward to grab an egg roll. Jethro made a face when she dipped it into the egg drop soup. She fell back against the arm of the sofa and placed her feet back into his lap. "Please, Jethro," she whined, taking a bite of the soup ladened egg roll.

"It's spicy. I'm not gonna listen you complain about having heartburn the rest of the night."

"But the baby -" she began and cut herself off when she noticed Gibbs giving her one of those trademark glares. "Don't give me the _stare_," Jenny said sternly. "_Your_ child wants kung-pao chicken."

"Not happening," he grumbled. For the last week and a half, she'd been using the baby as a way to get him to do things, and he had to regrettably admit that it had been working. Jethro set the carton of kung-pao chicken on the coffee table. He leaned back against the cushions and took her foot, rubbing her ankle. "Jen, I wanna know if it's a boy or a girl."

"I don't," she replied and reached for the carton. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when he didn't move to snatch it away from her. Jenny frowned as she looked inside the container. "You goon," she muttered and tossed the empty carton back onto the coffee table.

He laughed and popped her pinky toe. "Don't you wanna know?"

"No, I don't. I want to be surprised. I was surprised to find out I was pregnant. Why not have everything be a surprise?"

"What are we gonna do about the nursery?"

"Use gender neutral colors," she replied simply.

Gibbs shook his head and continued massaging her feet. Jenny put the empty carton of sweet and sour chicken on the floor and shifted in her spot to get more comfortable. She fell silent and watched Jethro with a million thoughts about the future, their future, coursing through her mind. "Jethro," she said softly, rubbing her hand over her belly in small circles to ease the kicks and jabs.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing at her.

"What if I have to go back to Europe?" she asked. If her suspension was lifted, it was possible she would be back to running ops wherever in the world. She would be back to doing her old job, flying to God knows where for God knows how long.

Jethro hadn't thought about that. Her being reassigned overseas had not crossed his mind whatsoever. He had been taking one day at a time. He rested his hand over her knee and slowly looked at her. "I hadn't thought about it."

"Jethro, if it does," she began.

"Turn it down -," he interrupted, not even thinking about how she would respond.

"I will not turn down an opportunity," she said defensively.

His jaw tightened and his eyes darkened as he stared at Jenny. "What?" he barked. "Jen, you'll have a baby. You'll have to start thinking about someone other than yourself. Some things are more important than your goddamn career."

"Jethro, I-"

Gibbs disrupted her speaking. "You have to quit being so goddamn selfish! What are you gonna do? Leave the baby like you left me?" he shouted at her.

His words hit her hard, and Jenny turned her head away from him. She shakily swept her bangs away from her eyes and removed her feet from his lap, moving to a sitting position. Her eyes burned, and she blinked rapidly as she tried to control her tears and temper. Jenny knew she'd hurt him. Until now, she hadn't realized how deep his hurt ran. She wouldn't abandon the baby; she'd finally bonded with the life growing inside of her. "I'm going to bed," she whispered, licking her lips. "You can leave or stay. I don't care. I can't keep doing this," she finished softly.

He swallowed hard and watched her. "Jen," he said hoarsely. "Can't keep doin' what?" Jethro inquired, hoping she didn't mean being with him. In actual fact, he didn't know what she meant.

Near the entryway of the living room, she stopped and turned slowly. "I can't keep being blamed for us falling apart. It wasn't all me, Jethro. You are to blame just as much as I am to blame. I left you because of you."

"_What_?" he asked, brows knitting in half bewilderment and half outrage.

Jenny sighed and looked at him thoughtfully. She'd never been one for holding back, so she decided to express her feelings to him - those long drawn out analyzed thoughts about their whirlwind romance that kept her up late at night. "You didn't love me. You did but not completely. I didn't have all of you, Jethro."

Gibbs stared at her intently, but he couldn't tell her she was right. He had loved her, and he _still_ loved her. Since the moment she'd come whizzing back into his life, he'd fallen more for her – little by little each day - but she didn't have all of him still. There was a part of him that was off limits. Those inner depths were closed off and had been uncharted for years. He had long forgotten how to give himself, unreservedly and wholeheartedly, over to someone else. "Jen, I'm sorry," Gibbs expressed sincerely. He should have known that Jenny would recognize that pieces of him were locked away. She'd always been able to read him like a book, known in a fight which lurches hurt the most, and always had an uncanny ability to work in perfect sync with him –in the field and off the field, especially in the bedroom.

She shook her head. "There's no need to apologize. It's not becoming of you, Jethro. I still love you, and I know I still don't wholly have you. I might one day, but it won't be tomorrow or the next day," Jenny told him and walked over to him. She looked up at him through her lashes and touched his cheek.

He looked down at her and put his hand over hers. "I am sorry, Jenny. I can't let it go some days."

"You're going to have to forgive me one day."

He nodded his head and pulled her hand down from his cheek, holding her hand in his. She looked down at their hands and back up to his eyes. "Jethro, we'll make it work. I want it to work this time. We have to make it work for her or him," she told him, putting his hand against her stomach.

Jethro knew that. God, he _knew_ that. The man had been given a second chance with Jenny and the good fortune for an opportunity he never thought he'd be given.

* * *

><p>Gibbs jogged up the stairs and hurriedly walked past MTAC. He had been summoned by Director Tom Morrow. Before entering the office, he stole a look down to the desks to make sure Anthony DiNozzo was diligently working instead of slacking off as he had the habit to do. Jethro recognized the potential in the young man, but he was thinking he'd need a new hand or wrist by the time that potential even reached half blossom considering the amount of times he'd head slapped DiNozzo since he'd come to NCIS. He hadn't decided if it was fate or bad luck that he'd met Tony while undercover in Baltimore.<p>

When he reached the outer office, Morrow's secretary told Gibbs to go right into the Director's spacious office. He stepped inside and hid his surprise to see Jenny sitting at the conference table.

"Agent Gibbs," Tom Morrow spoke. "Have a seat."

Gibbs did as he was told and briefly looked to the redhead. Jenny glanced at him and folded her hands into her lap. Morrow watched the two agents, one of his best and one that would rival Gibbs' one day. "Shepard, your suspension has been lifted. I don't plan on putting you in the field due to current circumstances."

Jenny nodded her head. "I understand," she said.

"You'll find being an analyst boring, but you can turn it down if you wish."

"I'll take it, sir," Jenny answered. She'd been bored to tears being at home and feeling too much like a housewife waiting for Gibbs to come home from work. Domesticity wasn't completely for her.

"As for you being in danger, it's still possible. The chatter's been low and scarce, but we're still monitoring the situation," Morrow informed her then looked at Gibbs. "Jethro."

"Sir?" Gibbs directed his attention to the NCIS Director.

"I take it Agent Shepard will be under your protection."

"Yes, sir," Gibbs answered with conviction.

Morrow nodded his head and told Gibbs to leave his office while Jenny stayed behind to work out the details of her new position. Gibbs went back to the squad room and kept looking up to the catwalk. DiNozzo noticed and looked each time his boss did.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked. "Get back to work."

"Will do, boss," he muttered and resumed pecking the keys on the computer's keyboard at a snail's pace.

Finally, Jenny came out of Director Morrow's office and walked to the elevator. Jethro pushed his chair back and walked to the elevator. He waited for the familiar ding of the elevator stopping and the doors to slide back, revealing Jenny. Gibbs stepped inside without noticing DiNozzo leaning over his desk curiously attempting to sneak a peek. The probationary agent caught the sight of red hair and wondered if Gibbs' had a girlfriend. It was common knowledge around headquarters that the surly special agent had a thing for the redheads – a little fact he had snooped out within a matter of hours.

Jenny smiled at Gibbs and leaned forward, pressing the emergency stop. She kissed him, tasting the coffee on his lips. "You forgot that this morning."

"You were sleepin'. Well?"

"Well what?" she asked sweetly, fluttering her long mascara covered lashes.

"Jen," he growled deeply. "Don't be cute."

She smirked. "I'm always cute, Jethro. I start next week. Of course, it'll end when I start maternity leave," she told him, internally cringing at the thought of maternity leave. Maternity leave was a stepping-stone to the inevitable labor and childbirth, and she hadn't wrapped her mind around all of that pain.

"And?"

"Morrow asked what we were having. Can you believe that?"

Gibbs laughed, shaking his head. "I'll have to tell him to give you a direct order to find out the sex."

She reached out and swatted his shoulder, biting her bottom lip not to laugh. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close against him. "Glad you're not suspended anymore," he said, pressing his nose against her temple as he took in the scent of her shampoo. He hated she couldn't be in the field with him.

"Me too." Jenny smoothed her hands over the lapels of his jacket. "Will you be late?"

Jethro shrugged his shoulders. "Nah," he answered. "What do you want for dinner?" he questioned, lightly kissing her forehead.

"Surprise me," she told him before scrunching up her nose. "No, don't." Jenny fell silent for a few moments as she thought about what she wanted for dinner. "Mexican," she finally declared.

He rolled his eyes and pinched her butt. It wouldn't surprise him if he received a call later in the day telling him to pick up something different. She smirked at him. "I'll let you get back to work. I'm sure my replacement is wondering what you're doing in the elevator with a redhead," she said, swiping her pinky near the corner of his mouth. "Lipstick," the redhead explained when Jethro wrinkled his brows in confusion.

"Jen, no one could ever replace you," Jethro told her honestly and brushed his lips across hers. He bumped the elevator back into motion and escorted her out of the building. When the NCIS Special Agent in Charge agent strolled back inside, he didn't care that his mouth was looking healthier from Jenny's reddish pink lipstick stain.

* * *

><p>The redhead shivered and rubbed her palms together, cursing herself for having the idea to surprise Gibbs which had lead her to sit in a cold basement for nearly a half hour. Jenny cupped her hands and held them close to her mouth, blowing her warm breath on her freezing fingers. She glanced to the skeleton of the boat and thought about setting it on fire to get warm. It would certainly be something to watch Gibbs' reaction. The front door opening broke her pyromaniac thoughts.<p>

Jethro raised a brow when he saw her sitting near the messy workbench that was scattered with plans, tools, and empty jars. "Jenny, what are you doing here?"

"Hey Jenny. How are you? I'm good. Thanks for asking. What are you doing here? I'm surprised to see you," she mocked as her lips curled into a smirk. "I hope our child doesn't inherit your social skills."

He rolled his eyes and stood in front of her. "What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked a second time, hoping he would actually get a reply. He was happy and surprised to see her all at the same time.

"I thought I'd come by and see what you've done with the place," she told him sarcastically and crossed her legs. Since returning to American soil, Jenny had not left the solitude and safety of her Georgetown home much at all. She'd been to doctor's appointments and NCIS headquarters, so why not add Gibbs' basement to the list finally.

"Jenny," he began.

She put her hand up. "I know you were coming over later and bringing dinner. It's become our routine, but I broke protocol for a good reason," she said, retrieving a manila envelope from her coat pocket. "It's yours." Jen handed the envelope to him.

Gibbs took it and opened, letting the contents fall onto the countertop. He stared at the long awaited grainy photo from her twenty-week ultrasound. Jethro shakily picked it up and held it in front of him, blissfully staring at the image. He cleared his throat and looked at Jenny. "Today?" he questioned gruffly.

Jenny nodded her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were working," she answered simply.

"I would have come with you," he replied softly.

She caught the traces of hurt in his voice and sighed as she stood to her feet. "Next time," she assured, giving his elbow a squeeze. Honestly, she hadn't thought to include Jethro in the appointment. Jenny hadn't realized that he'd take a break from catching the bad guys to tag along with her to a doctor's appointment. She'd been alone when she'd found out that she was pregnant, and it was difficult for her to realize she wasn't alone any longer. Jethro wanted to be included, and she realized just how much now. "Everything's perfect," she whispered softly. The redheaded silently cursed herself for selfishly abandoning the opportunity she'd had to inform him of the ultrasound before he'd left for work, but she'd had her reasons. When their child was born, everything would change. She wouldn't have the independence she had and was accustomed to in her life. Everything would be done with someone else in mind like it should when one became a parent, but some days it was too much for her to wrap her mind around. Jenny wasn't gong to begrudge her child for a strike against her freedom, but she wanted to relish the fleeting occurrences of doing what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it.

Jethro smiled. He was relieved and proud to hear those words and kissed Jenny's temple. If he'd been mad at her for not telling him of the appointment, those feelings were gone as he held the ultrasound photo. He slipped an arm around her loosely and continued to stare at the fuzzy black and white image of the baby.

"Jethro," she said suddenly. "This the same boat you were building?"

"Nope." Gibbs tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

"What happened to it?" Jenny questioned. Boats didn't disappear out of thin air, and she couldn't imagine him destroying something he'd worked so hard on.

"Burned her," Gibbs responded.

Jenny tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing and tiny lines on her forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. "Why would you -?" She paused as enlightenment dawned - the reason why Leroy Jethro Gibbs would burn a boat – and she laughed heartily. "You named it after an ex-wife!"

"Let's go," Jethro said hurriedly and took her by the arm. He needed her out of the room now before she asked too many questions.

"Which one?" Jenny inquired. She was intrigued over just who had caused him to strike a match.

"You know damn well which one," he barked, trying to shuffle the pregnant redhead out of his basement and far away from the boat.

She tugged her arm away from him and bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Why didn't you change the name?" she inquired as she stepped closer to the boat and placed her hand on the smooth sanded wood.

"Because it wouldn't matter," Jethro told her. "Every time I went out on her, I'd think of Diane," he admitted honestly, still unsuccessfully attempting to get Jenny out of the basement.

"You didn't care who sailed off on Diane," Jenny countered. As soon as the former Mrs. Gibbs had found out there was a female on her husband's team, Diane had hated Jenny. The feeling had soon become mutual. "You are a strange man."

"Me?" Gibbs said incredulously. "Ha!" He shook his head and took several steps towards her. Jethro placed his hands on her back and ushered Jenny to the stairs. "I'll be up in a minute. Crank the truck and wait for me," he instructed firmly and pointed to the stairs.

Jenny smirked at him, but she nodded her head. She walked up the stairs. Halfway up them, she stopped and turned. "Jethro, do not _ever_ name a boat after me."

"Okay, Jen," he agreed, distracted. The man was still staring at the ultrasound, running his fingertips gently over the blurry image. His heart ached, and he yearned for a few moments alone.

"I mean it, Jethro. Look at me," Jen demanded.

Jethro put the ultrasound photo down and looked to her on the stairs, catching her emerald eyes. "I'll never name a boat after you, Jenny," he promised.

Satisfied with the tone of his voice, Jenny continued up the stairs. He waited to hear the front door close and took out his wallet, sitting down on the bottom stair. Jethro opened the worn leather wallet and removed another photo. He cleared his throat and gazed at the photo of a little girl with long chestnut brown hair in braids. He smiled sadly, placed the old photo in its place, and tucked the picture of the ultrasound behind it. Gibbs stood and quickly realized he was going to have to divulge his painful past to Jenny soon, but he had no idea how.


	4. III

_March 2000_

Anthony DiNozzo silently sat at his desk in the squad room. The young agent was lost in thought. His mind was racing with questions he dare not ask for fear of the almighty head slap that would come his way. His boss's behavior had considerably confused him for the last few weeks. A few days ago, Tony thought that the belligerent mute to whom he answered had actually smiled when getting off the elevator with _that_ redhead. The boss man didn't smile! Tony had come to the conclusion that Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't have those sorts of muscles in his face, but he'd witnessed the smile with his own eyes. The next day, Tony made an appointment with his optometrist to have his vision checked, and his sight was perfection. It was _that_ redhead that caused Gibbs to smile. He didn't know her name, but he knew she was a looker. DiNozzo was curious and itching to find out who she was exactly, but he just couldn't ask Gibbs. Well, he _could_, but he liked living.

When Gibbs rounded the corner barking about a dead Marine somewhere, DiNozzo nearly fell out of his chair. His moment of deep contemplation had been shattered into a million pieces. The agent scrambled for his agency issued backpack and ran after his boss to the elevator. He jumped inside before the doors closed and grinned widely in achievement. Gibbs glared at the younger man and swiftly smacked him on the back of his skull.

Tony squawked loudly and dropped his backpack on the floor. He felt like his brain had bounced inside of his head like a pinball in a machine. "Boss! What was that for?"

"For thinkin' what you were thinkin'," Gibbs answered brusquely and sipped from his to-go coffee cup.

DiNozzo slumped against the wall of the elevator and rubbed his aching head. He didn't know how Gibbs could read minds or always be one step ahead of him. For the rest of the day, Tony did his best not to think about Gibbs and _that_ redhead, and he didn't until Gibbs let him venture to autopsy unsupervised. DiNozzo's brain was free to wonder without the constant, nagging fear of abuse. _Of course, Ducky would know about the woman._ The Scottish medical examiner was a well of knowledge, and being so close to the possibility of the truth was too much for Anthony DiNozzo to withstand.

In the middle of informing the special agent of his findings, Dr. Mallard stopped talking and looked at the young man. "Anthony, you are not interested in what I'm telling you."

"What?" Tony asked. "I am, Ducky. It's just," he paused, contemplating if he should continue rambling.

"What is on your mind?" Ducky inquired.

"Boss and the redhead. Who is she?" Tony questioned quickly.

Dr. Mallard shook his head and looked to the floor briefly. He looked at DiNozzo and led him to the doors, clasping the agent on the shoulder. "Anthony, you will learn in time that it is best not to ask about some things around here."

* * *

><p>It was late at NCIS headquarters. Outside, the sun had long since set, and inside most agents had vacated the premises. Jenny sat across from Ducky in the dimly lit room of autopsy. The pair was sharing a pot of tea and conversation while Jenny waited for Gibbs' return. For some reason, Jethro had put it into his mind that he should escort her to and from headquarters everyday. The redhead glanced at the time on her silver watch, a gift from her late father, and huffed. "He's being overprotective," she said in frustration.<p>

Ducky chuckled softly. "My dear, it's for a good reason," he told his companion. Gibbs had instructed Ducky to keep an eye on Jenny until his return. Ducky was unclear on how together his two friends were, but he couldn't blame Jethro for being particularly overprotective of Jenny and the baby.

"I can take care of myself. Jethro knows that. He's being controlling," the redhead pouted.

The medical examiner said nothing. He didn't want to anger the redhead, so he merely sipped his tea while she simmered. Jenny sighed heavily and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She was tired and wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed if she ever got home. Jethro had told her that he wouldn't be gone more than an hour or two, and that had been four hours ago.

"How are you feeling other than being annoyed with Jethro?"

"Honestly?" Jenny questioned, looking over at the medical examiner.

Ducky nodded his head, watching as she shrugged her shoulders. "I can't get used to being pregnant. I didn't want children, Ducky," Jenny admitted quietly.

"To borrow from an Englishman, 'Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans,'" Ducky said, smiling ever so softly.

The redhead smirked softly at Ducky's quoting of John Lennon. Ducky watched her intently and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the autopsy table. "Jennifer," he spoke softly.

Jenny glanced at him, meeting his eyes. She hated the use of her full first time, but she had never minded when Ducky called her by it. He was the only one who ever got away with it.

"Do you want the child?"

"Yes, I do," she answered quickly and truthfully. "I couldn't go through with an abortion, and I didn't miscarry after being attacked," the redhead paused. She closed her fingers around the delicate china of the teacup and cleared her throat. The bruises from her neck and throat were gone, her thigh healed into a smooth scar, and the nightmares were less and less, but the attack still haunted her. Her hand drifted to her middle as she stared into Ducky's kind blue eyes. "This baby wants to be born."

Ducky smiled softly. The child was a fighter like its parents, and her response was enough to satisfy him that the child would be born to two loving parents. He reached out and held her hand, comfortingly squeezing her fingertips. The two sat in silence and sipped their tea.

"Ducky," Jenny said, looking at him. "How long will it take me to bounce back?"

"From what?" he questioned.

"Having the baby," she clarified.

"Oh," he responded and set his cup of tea on the metal table. "It depends on a number of reasons. If you require a caesarean section, the recovery will take longer. Jenny, if all goes well with delivery, you'll bounce back rather quickly."

She nodded her head in approval and took a drink of tea. Jenny needed to know how long it would take her to be back to normal after having the baby. She understood changes would have to be made after the baby's arrival, but she desperately wanted back in the field. Somehow, the young agent would make it work. The automatic doors of autopsy opened, and Jethro entered, glancing to Ducky and Jenny. He met Jenny's glare and ignored it. "DiNozzo got lost," he explained.

"DiNozzo's an idiot," she muttered and finished her tea. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah," Gibbs answered and took her hand, pulling her up from the stool. Jenny smiled, pleased with the fact that sleeping in her bed was in the near future.

Ducky smiled at them and began clearing away the tray of tea. Jenny kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Ducky."

"You're welcome. You have nothing to worry about when the time comes," he said.

Jethro looked between the two of them with raised brows. "When the time comes?"

"Jenny was asking how quickly she'd bounce back from delivery. I told her there would be nothing to worry about unless she had to have a caesarean section," Ducky explained. "Oh dear," he mumbled softly as he noticed the look on Gibbs' face. He had unknowingly put his foot in his mouth.

Jenny rolled her eyes and headed for the door after slipping into her coat. Gibbs was quickly on her heels as she stepped into the elevator. "Why are you askin' that?" he growled.

"It was a simple question, Jethro," she replied defensively.

"You got a reason for askin' Ducky that."

She cut her green eyes at him and adjusted the scarf around her neck. "Last time I checked, I can ask Ducky whatever I like. You don't have to know everything, Jethro," Jenny snapped.

"I do when it comes to you and the baby," he countered.

"You do not!" she added, her voice rising in volume.

"I do too," the former Marine added, sounding much like a child.

Jenny let out a frustrated breath and felt like she was in a grade school playground argument with him. "No, Jethro, you do not have reign over me simply because you knocked me up in Paris!" She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him. Gibbs rolled his eyes. He was in no mood for the redheaded silent treatment.

"Jenny," he rumbled, putting a firm grip on her elbow. When she jerked, Gibbs resolutely pulled her back. "We've talked about this," he warned in a low voice. He didn't want to keep having the same fight with her, but he needed Jenny to entirely understand that she wouldn't be able to have everything she wanted – like she was used to - after their child was born. Becoming a parent involved too many sacrifices.

"We have, and I told you I wouldn't turn down an opportunity."

"You'll have a baby, Jenny."

"Thank you for the observation, Captain Obvious."

He set his jaw as he stiffly glared at her. "Goddammit, Jen," he grumbled, realizing there would be no getting through to her. It was late. They were both worn-out and irritable.

"What do you want me to do, Jethro? Stay? Get married to you? Become one of your ex-wives?" she spat out furiously.

Gibbs released his hold of her arm and leaned in closer to her face. Silently, he dared her to break their eye contact. "You wanna marry me?" he asked, a feeble sneer crossing his lips. Jenny wouldn't marry him – as much as he may want her to if they were not in the middle of a quarrel – she wouldn't do it.

"No," she answered – stubborn, serious, and straightforward.

* * *

><p>Jenny hadn't spoken to Jethro since slamming the door in his face when he brought her home three days ago. She couldn't believe that she'd mentioned marriage in an argument or that Gibbs had the audacity to sarcastically propose to her. Jenny didn't want to be anyone's wife and certainly did not want to be anyone's ex-wife. Her thoughts were broken as Noemi cheerily called to her as she entered the home. The housekeeper bustled into the kitchen with bags of groceries in her arms.<p>

"Morning, señora," Noemi greeted with a bright smile on her face.

"Morning Noemi," Jenny replied, sounding nowhere near as cheerful as the other woman. She continued thumbing through the Sunday morning paper. She picked up her glass of orange juice and sipped it casually.

"How you feel?"

"Fine," the redhead stated simply.

"And the little one?" Noemi inquired.

Jenny smiled gently. She didn't think anyone in her life was more excited about the baby than Noemi. "Active," Jenny answered and knew what was coming.

"May I, señora?" Noemi asked, excitement bubbling up.

Jenny nodded her head and stepped back from the counter. Noemi's hands went to her middle to feel the baby's kicks and flutters. If anyone else wanted to touch and feel Jenny's stomach, she'd most likely cut his or her hands off. "Señor Shepard would be so proud," Noemi murmured, a smile on her face.

A chuckle escaped from Jenny. "Maybe, Noemi," she responded. However, she doubted that her father would be proud of her if he were still alive. Colonel Jasper Shepard wouldn't be pleased with his little girl being a NCIS agent, and he would not be thrilled with his twenty-eight-year-old daughter being unmarried and having an illegitimate child with a man fourteen years her senior. Her head hurt thinking about how much Gibbs and the Colonel would have been at each other's throats. Jenny sighed softly and finished her glass of orange juice. Noemi patted Jenny's rounded abdomen with a smile and straightened.

"Gibbs coming today?" Noemi asked hopefully. She liked that man. He was a gentleman to her, would chat with her in Spanish, and very easy on the eyes.

Jenny shook her head in response and set the empty glass into the sink. "No, Gibbs isn't coming today. Noemi, I'll be upstairs."

"Sí," the housekeeper replied. "I'll make lunch for later and go."

Jenny nodded and left the kitchen. Noemi was off on weekends, but she'd been dropping by more and more since Jenny had returned home. The housekeeper was desperate to take care of Jenny. In the master bedroom, Jenny closed the door and leaned against it heavily. She grimaced at the pain of her legs cramping and looked down accusingly at the culprit. "Are you ever going to give me a break?" she whispered. Ducky had lied to her, telling her that the second trimester would be the honeymoon of the pregnancy. Her back ached more from the extra weight. Now, Jenny had leg cramps and swelling to deal with but at least morning sickness was behind her. She pushed herself off the door and walked into the bathroom to run a bath.

Minutes later, she blissfully sank into the hot bubbly floral scented water and closed her eyes, reveling in the relief from her aching muscles and the complete quiet – until the bedroom door flew open and banged against the wall. "Just when I was getting used to my door being treated like a door," she muttered without opening her eyes, attempting to cling onto the serenity that had filled the room only moments before.

Jethro stood in the middle of the bathroom and stared at the woman in the tub. Unfortunately, the bubbles were covering all of his favorite parts of her. "Jen, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" she answered with a groan.

"You're taking a bubble bath at 10 o'clock in the morning," Gibbs mumbled.

"Why are you here?" Jenny asked, opening one eye to angrily look at him.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and put the lid down on the toilet, flopping down to sit. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. She turned her head and stared at him with a look in her eye that would have sent DiNozzo running and screaming for mercy in an instant, but it barely bothered Gibbs. "Are you going to sit in here?"

"Yeah," he answered huskily.

"Fine," she replied, closing her eyes. She could and would ignore him. He clucked his tongue and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.

"Jen," he said, staring at her intently.

"Jethro, what?" Jenny questioned tightly. She was half tempted to throw him out of her home, especially since he couldn't sit and be quiet. If she wanted him to talk, he wouldn't say a single word. Jenny sighed and brushed her bangs away from her eyes.

"You okay?"

"I'm _fine_," she responded. She would be better if he wasn't sitting in her bathroom interrupting her peaceful, relaxing bubble bath.

He mumbled under his breath and continued to sit in silence. Jethro watched the bubbles slowly dissolve and Jenny's ivory skin wrinkle like a prune. He was sure the water was cold, but she didn't move a muscle. Finally, she opened her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. Jethro moved to get her a towel and stood in front of the tub with the thick, comfy towel open and waiting for her. He watched her come out of the water and stared at the bubbles clinging to her body. "Thanks," she said as she took the towel and wrapped it around herself.

Gibbs offered her his hand as she lifted her foot to step out. Hesitantly, she took his hand and carefully stepped onto the floor. He cleared his throat and anxiously watched her walk to the bathroom vanity. "Jen, would you want to marry me?"

"Is that honestly what you came over here to ask after not speaking to me for three days?" Her eyebrows were raised in astonishment, and she shook her head softly.

"You weren't speaking to me," he retorted.

She pushed her bangs off her forehead and wiped the foggy mirror off with her hand. He stood behind her and placed his calloused hands on her damp shoulders. "Would you marry me?" he asked in a softer voice.

Jenny tilted her head up and looked at him standing behind her in the mirror. She sighed heavily. "Jethro, I don't want to marry you," she whispered sadly. Deep down, she knew he still held bitter, nasty feelings towards her for leaving him in Paris months ago. And they hadn't even said those three little words to each other since their lives collided into each other for a second time. Jethro was old fashioned, and if he wanted to marry her because of the baby then it would never work.

He kissed her shoulder blade and slipped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. "Jenny," he whispered and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck.

She bit her bottom lip hard, nearly drawing blood, resisting the urge to melt into his touch. "Jethro," she throatily murmured.

Gibbs brushed his lips against the nape of her neck and slid a hand down to the curve of her hip. Her breath snagged, and she tightened her grip on the sink. He caught her eyes in the mirror and stared into them. "I love you," he told her earnestly.

Jenny turned in his arms and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "I know you do, Jethro, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't marry you. I can't. I can't be an ex-wife." Her tone was soft, but he knew she was serious.

"You wouldn't," he answered somberly.

"There's a reason why you haven't had a successful marriage, Jethro. I don't know if it was you or them."

"It wasn't them. It was my fault," he interrupted.

She lifted her head and looked at him, taken aback by that bit of information. Jenny had expected him to blame the ex-wives, but he saddled the blame. She swallowed hard and cupped his face, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the words about to come out of her mouth. "Until you can tell me why you've never been able to give me all of you, Jethro, I…I don't want to see you."

He wanted to scream and yell at her, but he didn't. Jethro merely nodded. Her words hurt him, but he knew she was right. Gibbs had the opportunity to come clean and tell her everything, but he was ill equipped at the moment. He stared into her watery green eyes and let out a shaky breath, pained at the look in her eyes. "Please go," she whispered heavily. He kissed her forehead and left the room, jogging down the stairs and out the door. Jethro stood on the brick steps and glanced up to the window of the master bedroom, cursing the woman he loved for knowing him so well.


	5. IV

It had taken him a whole week to decide what to do. Jethro cursed when the wheel of his truck hit a pothole in the road and shook his head. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and let out a sigh of relief. His suitcase was still safely in the bed of the truck. Gibbs maneuvered his grey Ford F250 onto the quiet Georgetown residential street and parked across from the immaculate townhouse. He jumped out of the truck and slammed the door, whistling as he crossed the street – ambushing an unsuspecting redhead always put him in a cheerful mood. "Who the -?" Jethro mumbled when his eyes landed on the champagne Cadillac Seville parked in the driveway. He didn't recognize the vehicle at all, but he continued his walk to the heavy wooden front door. The special agent nearly collided into the door for staring at the luxury coupe. Gibbs placed his hand on the doorknob but stopped. He hadn't spoken to Jenny in a week, and she was always harping about his lack of social etiquette. For the first time, he pressed the brass doorbell. Moments later, he heard her soft footsteps and smiled at her when she opened the door.

Jenny's green eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him standing on her doorstep, and she tossed her long loosely curled hair over her shoulder. "Jethro, what are you doing here?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"You got company?" he asked bordering on a tone he typically used in interrogation, craning his neck to look around her into the house.

"I always have company thanks to you," she remarked with sheer sarcasm, gently rubbing circles over her abdomen.

Gibbs smirked and sidestepped the redhead, brushing shoulders with her as he pushed his way into the foyer. "Who's here?"

She rolled her eyes and slammed the door. "No one is here but me, Jethro," she answered. He hadn't called or dropped by in a week, and now he was in her home acting like he was the king of the castle. "You're acting like a jealous husband!"

He ignored that observation and turned to look at her. "That Cadillac out front –"

Jenny interrupted him. "- Is mine." She'd needed a means of transportation since Jethro was no longer her ride to work, and she hadn't wanted to deal with public transportation in her condition.

"What?"

"It was my father's car, and it's been in storage. Jethro, what are you doing here?" she asked, exasperation growing in her voice.

"We're gonna take a road trip," he informed her.

"You haven't called or seen me in a week. Now, you want me to take a road trip with you?" she questioned in utter disbelief at his presumptuousness.

"Jen, you told me not to see you until I could tell you why."

The redhead arched a perfect eyebrow at him, folding her arms over her chest. "How does taking a road trip mean you're ready to tell me why your marriages failed?"

"You'll see," he replied and quickly jogged up the stairs. He darted into the master bedroom and began rummaging through her closet for a suitcase.

"Jethro!" she shouted at him. "God, I could kill him," Jenny muttered under her breath and winced at the strong kick to her ribs that swiftly followed. "Of course, take his side." She massaged her ribs and slowly traipsed up the stairs. "Jethro!" the redhead shrieked at the sight of the chaos he'd caused in a mere matter of minutes. There were clothes strewn over the bed and drawers opened.

"What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Figured you wouldn't wanna pack."

"I'll pack. You can explain this mess to Noemi."

"Noemi loves me," he said confidently and lazily flopped onto the bed, drumming his fingers on his knee.

Jenny cut her eyes at him and scowled at the clothing that he'd haphazardly thrown into the suitcase. Nothing matched at all, and she wasn't sure if she could wear even half of what he had chosen.

"Think it's my blue eyes," Gibbs declared. "What do you think?" he asked, nudging Jenny's leg with his foot and grinning arrogantly.

"I think you've lost your mind."

"Nah," Jethro drawled with a shake of his head. He grabbed her hand and swiftly pulled her onto his lap. "Missed you, Jen," he told her, slipping his arms around her waist and burying his face into her neck. Her signature perfume flooded his senses, and he held onto her snugly. Over the last week, he'd missed having her in his arms and sleeping next to her.

"I missed you too," she admitted in a gentle whisper.

Jethro lifted his head and stared into her eyes. An ear-to-ear smile came over his face when he felt the baby's attacks. He placed his hand over her swollen abdomen. "Been okay?"

Jenny nodded her head. "Yeah, we're fine," she told him with a content smile, stroking the back of his head with her fingers. "You didn't miss anything except I had to buy maternity clothes," she added distastefully, scrunching up her nose at the thought of wearing pants with a stretchy band for the next few months.

He laughed and kissed her jaw. "Jenny, I should have been here sooner."

"You needed time," she stated understandingly, sliding off his lap.

Gibbs swallowed hard. He was still uncertain if this was the right time. He didn't know how Jenny would react about his past, and he didn't know what he'd do if she found it to be too much to bear and left him a second time. He cleared his throat and stood. "We'll be gone the weekend," he told her and left the bedroom.

"You haven't told me where we're going!" Jenny yelled to him.

Jethro popped his head into the room. "I'm gonna get coffee, and you're staying here to pack."

"Smartass," she grumbled but continued to pack for the surprise road trip, pulling out the clothes she had decided she would take.

* * *

><p>After an hour standoff and a yelling match, Jethro finally had Jenny in the vehicle. He glanced over at her, half tempted to wake her up since she was snoring loudly. Jenny ought to be exhausted. She'd demanded to know where they were traveling and then put her foot down about not getting into his old truck. He'd relented to her insistence on taking the Cadillac. Truthfully, he didn't mind having the opportunity to drive the luxury vehicle with a throaty V8 and buttery leather interior.<p>

Jenny opened her eyes and let the seat up from its reclining position. She arched her back with a soft groan at the movement as she hazily looked around, attempting to become aware of her surroundings and figure out just where they were. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and lights of the oncoming traffic. "Are we there yet?"

"Nope," Gibbs answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Where are we?" she inquired, furrowing her brow.

"Just crossed into Pennsylvania."

"I have to pee," she declared.

He took his eyes off the road and looked at her seriously. "Can you hold it?"

Jenny swatted his arm. "Jethro, you do not ask a pregnant woman if she can hold it. I _have _to pee."

Silently, Gibbs grumbled and found a gas station ten minutes later. He pulled up to the fuel pump and started to get out of the car until he felt Jenny's hand artfully snaking into the back pocket of his jeans. "What are you doing?" he asked sternly, twisting his body, so he could glare at her. The man had one hand still on the wheel and a foot on the pavement.

She smirked and flashed his worn leather wallet at him. He shook his head and exited the car to start pumping gas. Jenny removed a crisp twenty-dollar bill from the wallet. Once out of the car, she stretched her back and walked to him, rubbing her lower back to ease the dull ache that was residing there. "Want anything?" she asked and slid his wallet back into his pocket.

"Coffee," he answered.

"Snacks?"

Jethro shrugged his shoulders and watched her saunter into the gas station. Moments later, he paid for the gas and returned to the Cadillac. Nearly ten minutes later, his auburn haired lover hadn't returned to the car. Gibbs cranked up and pulled the car into a parking space in front of the convenience store. He walked inside and saw the top of Jenny's head. "What are you doing?" he asked as he came to stand next to her.

Her breath hitched and her hand shot to her heart as it palpitated. "Jesus Christ, Jethro! I hate it when you sneak up on me."

"What the hell's taking so long, Jenny?"

"I can't decide on a flavor," she explained with her lips pressed together in thought, gesturing to the slurpee machine.

"Pick one," he grumbled, impatience rising within him. Jethro was more bothered about getting back on the road and continuing their journey instead of dealing with her uncertainty over slurpee flavors.

"I can't decide between blue raspberry, watermelon punch, or wild cherry," Jenny uttered, gnawing on the tip of her fingernail as she indecisively viewed the flavors.

Gibbs let out a frustrated breath and poured himself a cup of coffee since the slurpee dilemma had gained all of Jenny's attention. "Why don't you mix them together?" he suggested acrimoniously.

Jenny made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled until he saw that impish twinkle in her eye. She grabbed the largest cup, and he watched in horror as she mixed watermelon punch _and_ wild cherry together. "Don't you dare say a word," she threatened, glaring icily at the former Marine and tearing off the wrapper and stabbing the straw through the lid. Gibbs followed her through the store as she grabbed junk food here and there. After too much time in his opinion, they were back on the highway. Jethro attempted to drown out Jenny's chip crunching by turning up the radio. It didn't work at all, and he glanced at her as she finished off a strip of beef jerky. He focused his eyes back on the road and guzzled his gas station coffee.

After adjusting the heat, Jenny turned in the tan leather seat and stared at Gibbs. Her eyes trailed along his strong jaw line, his nose, and his lips. Jenny scrutinized his profile, trying to envision what parts of him their baby would inherit. She hoped if the baby was a boy that he would look like his father right down to those intense azure eyes that would break so many hearts. She sucked on the straw and gulped down the sweet drink, blushing at the annoying noise from air getting into the straw. Jethro glanced at her. "What?" he inquired. She'd been wordlessly staring at him for a solid five minutes.

"Nothing," Jenny responded with a lazy shrug, chewing the tip of the straw. "Wanna try it?" She offered, thrusting the styrofoam cup full of slurpee at him.

Jethro shook his head in distaste. "No," he replied brusquely.

"You don't know what you're missing," she told him, shifting to get more comfortable in the leather seat. "I thought you liked wild cherries, Jethro," she purred, swirling her tongue around the straw seductively.

"Jen," he growled deeply.

"You do. Don't you?" she murmured, reaching over and stroking the inside of his denim covered thigh.

Gibbs licked his lips and bit his bottom lip hard, trying to keep it together while she mercilessly taunted him. She grinned wickedly as her slender fingers inched higher along his thigh. He grunted pitifully, watching her twirl her tongue around the top of that red straw. Luckily, his eyes caught the sign for a hotel at the upcoming exit for Harrisburg. Hurriedly, Jethro hit the blinker and stomped the gas, flying down the exit ramp and into the nearest hotel parking lot. He barely had time to put the key into the lock and open the door before Jenny leapt into his arms, locking her legs around him and was feverishly kissing him.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, the duo was back in the Cadillac coupe. Jenny fiddled with the radio and finally gave up on finding music she wanted to hear. "Will you tell me where we're going, please?"<p>

"Stillwater."

Jenny turned her head and stared at him. "Your hometown," she whispered gently. She had found his class ring one time along with his Purple Heart. "When's the last time you were home?" Jenny probed although she had the feeling that it had been years. Jethro rarely talked about his life, and she only knew he was a Pennsylvanian from stumbling across his high school ring.

"I'd just joined the Corps. Summer of '76," Gibbs answered. "Might have been the bicentennial," he murmured as he vaguely remembered the parade and fireworks as the sun set on the horizon.

She listened to him, but she didn't really remember the summer of 1976. Jenny had been four years old then. She reached over and grasped his hand, squeezing it slightly. Jenny remained quiet and lost in her thoughts for the rest of the drive. There were ninety or so miles between them and Jethro's past.

* * *

><p>In Stillwater, Jethro parked the car in front of the general store and swiftly realized nothing had changed much in the town during his nearly twenty-five year absence. The coal country town was still quiet, sleepy, and dull. He exited the car and opened Jenny's door. She took his hand and got out of the car, catching his eyes. Jethro seemed a thousand miles away, lost in the past. "You okay?" she asked softly, putting her free hand on his chest.<p>

He bowed his head and held her hand. Jenny kissed the corner of his mouth and looked at the small businesses lining either side of the main street. Jethro locked the car and turned to her. He put his hand on her lower back as he guided her to the general store. Gibbs knew the store would have to be his very first stop before word got out that he was back home. A bell sounded as they entered the shop and an older male voice called out. "Be with you in a minute!"

Gibbs stood in the middle of the store and patiently waited near the counter. Jenny decided to browse the fully stocked aisles. She picked up a packet of homemade fudge and bit down on her thumbnail as she debated on getting another package. She heard the shuffle of footsteps and the noise of a cane hitting the floor coming from the back of the store. "Leroy," the male voice said uncertainly. The redhead quickly turned and looked at the older man, taking in his appearance – same blue eyes as Jethro. She smiled softly as she became conscious of the fact that she was in the same room as Jethro's father.

"Hi, Jack," Gibbs finally spoke with hesitation as a cloud of anxiety and malaise fell over the space.

"What are you doing here, Leroy? You don't call. You don't write." Jackson Gibbs stared at his son almost as if he were a ghost. Jethro's jaw tightened as he held back from saying the words he wanted to articulate to his father, knowing those words would ruin the visit before it had even begun. The man knew why he didn't call or write. There was a deliberate reason why father and son had been estranged for years.

Jenny listened to the bungling conversation as she moved closer to the front of the store, approaching the men. Jackson noticed the redhead and looked at his son. He was astounded to see Leroy with a woman but more astounded that he was meeting the redhead. "Who's this?"

"I'm Jenny, Mr. Gibbs," she answered politely, cautiously attempting to break the awkward, frigid interaction between Jethro and his father.

"Call me Jack," he replied with a wink and flashed a warm smile at her. "My boy's always had good taste in women, and you're no exception to that, young lady."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at his father's shameless flirting and tapped his fingers on the store's counter, loudly clearing his throat.

"Leroy never did like to bring his love interests to meet me," Jackson remarked to Jenny. She gave Jethro a sympathetic look and rubbed his arm. "Can I get you anything?"

"Could I use your restroom?" Jenny requested.

"Again?" Jethro muttered. He'd lost track of how many times they'd stopped for bathroom breaks on the way.

"Shut up, Jethro," the redhead grumbled and listened to Jackson's directions to the bathroom.

"Take off your coat. Stay a while," he added with a smile. Jethro complained under his breath but helped Jenny out of her wool coat. He hung it up on the coat rack near the door and slipped out of his while she excused herself to the bathroom. Jackson moved to the small wooden table. He sat down carefully and watched his son. "You married?"

"No," the younger Gibbs answered simply and pulled out a chair, sitting down.

"She's pregnant, Leroy."

"Yeah," he answered slowly.

"Are you going to marry her?"

"She doesn't want that," Jethro stated curtly, not wanting to hear his father's opinion.

"When's she due?"

"June," he answered proudly.

"Leroy, I'm glad you're letting yourself have a second chance at it," Jackson told his son earnestly. From the other room, Jenny overheard the conversation. Her heart stopped as her mind raced with questions she was almost scared to ask. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to calm herself down before she overreacted. After a few moments, Jenny came into the room and sat down next to Jethro. She put her hand over his and spent the next few hours listening to Jack tell stories of Jethro's youth while he pried into her and Jethro's relationship.

* * *

><p>When the sun had long since set, Jethro carried a sleeping redhead in his arms. He pushed the door to the small apartment at the back of the store open with his foot. Moments later, he tucked Jenny into bed and kissed her forehead. She'd fallen asleep against his shoulder after dinner. He straightened and watched her sleep for several minutes before rejoining his father at the table. Jackson had a hot cup of coffee waiting for his son. Jethro dipped his head in appreciation and sat down, picking up the mug and wrapping his hands around it absorbing the warmth.<p>

"Jenny asleep?"

"Yeah," Jethro replied, taking a long, thankful drink of the brew. "That's good coffee."

"I know," Jack retorted. He'd ground the beans and made it himself. Of course, it was good coffee. "I like her."

"She's somethin' else," Gibbs responded, a sparkle in his eye.

Jackson chuckled and drank his coffee. "Does she know?"

Jethro shook his head sadly. "Jenny doesn't know."

His father nodded his head. "You're gonna tell her…aren't ya? You owe that to her if you're havin' a baby with her."

"Tomorrow," Gibbs said, uneasily and already fearful of the conversation.

"Son, you better hit the hay," Jackson instructed as he finished off his coffee. "It'll be a long day for you tomorrow."

Jethro got up from the table and put his hand on his dad's shoulder before heading into the apartment. In the bedroom, Jenny hadn't moved from where he'd placed her into bed. He undressed and slid under the sheets next to her. Jenny cuddled herself close to him and put her head on his chest, sleepily opening her eyes.

He ran his fingers through her hair and sighed. The scent of her shampoo assaulted his senses, and he relaxed in the dark quiet of the room. Jenny rubbed her face against his muscular chest and draped her arm over him. "I love you," she whispered, tilting her head and kissing his jaw sleepily. He pressed his lips against her forehead and listened to her breathing quickly even out.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Jackson cooked a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausage, biscuits, and milk gravy for his unexpected guests. Jenny felt miserable after such a large breakfast. She helped Jackson with the dishes. He washed, and she dried.<p>

"Leroy hasn't told me. Is it a boy or a girl?" he inquired, handing her a plate.

"We don't know," Jenny replied, rubbing her socked foot against her ankle as she dried the dish. She'd spent the last several minutes trying to imagine Jethro at his father's age. The redhead could easily picture him with silvery white hair, but she couldn't visualize Jethro wearing suspenders.

"He doesn't like surprises."

"I know he doesn't, but he'll live."

Jack laughed at the comment and shook his head. "You keep my boy on his toes, don't you?"

Jenny smiled at the older man. "I try my best."

Gibbs entered the kitchen and rolled his eyes. He hated to admit that he was pleased to see his father and Jenny getting along. "Jack, I need to borrow her."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I didn't know I was on loan," she retorted smartly. Gibbs smirked and stepped closer to her. "Feel like goin' for a walk?"

Jenny limply shrugged her shoulders. "I guess so."

"I'll wait for you," he told her and took her place at the sink to finish drying the dishes. Jenny disappeared to the apartment and dressed warmly for the cold March weather. She met Jethro outside the store. He was staring at Ellen's Dress Shop and remembering the first time he fell in love with a redhead. Jenny's voice broke him out of the memory, and he turned his head towards her. She pulled her coat around her tighter, trying to seal in the warmth, and took his offered hand in hers. Jenny snuggled against him as they walked. Jethro slipped his arm around her and moved his hand rhythmically up and down her side. "Warm enough?" he inquired.

"The body heat helps," Jenny replied. "You're like a heater," she said with a laugh.

Jethro laughed with her and kept her close to him. The streets weren't crowded with cars or people like back in the city, and it was refreshing. Jenny was content to simply walk with her man in the cold weather. Gibbs walked with her to the train depot and up the few steps with her. "I wanna tell you a story, Jen," he informed her, pulling her down gently beside him on the bench. Jethro pulled her close against him and kept his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder anxiously. "I met my first wife here. Her name was Shannon," he spoke in a low voice. "She was a redhead," he added, catching the simper forming on Jenny's lips. "We got married in '82. Shannon and I had a daughter two years later."

"Jethro," she gasped, turning to face him. Jenny fixed her eyes on his face and stared into his powerful blue eyes intently as he told her about his first marriage. She felt her heart race faster every time he referred to his wife and child in the past tense, overwhelming dread taking hold of her. Her intuition was screaming that Jethro hadn't divorced Shannon. She tried to brace herself as best as she could while continuing to listen to him.

He looked down into her eyes. "We named her Kelly. I got transferred to a base in California. While I was serving in Operation Desert Storm, Shannon witnessed a murder when Kelly was eight. A member of a drug cartel murdered a Marine. She decided to testify against the bastard," Gibbs stopped for a moment and held Jenny tighter to him. She felt the tears forming in her green eyes. Her ears had never heard Jethro's voice so raw and hurt before. "Shannon and Kelly were put under NCIS protection. The agent assigned to them was taking them somewhere, and a sniper shot the agent in the head. The car accident killed my wife and daughter instantly," he concluded sorrowfully.

Jenny put her arms around him, hugging him to her – trying to reassure him that she wasn't leaving him. "Jethro, I'm…I'm so sorry," she cried into him. She didn't know what to say to comfort him; she didn't know how he'd continued living without his wife and daughter. She couldn't imagine surviving such a devastating loss. Jethro rubbed her back and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. He held onto her as she clung onto him, feeling her hot tears against the sleeve of his coat as she cried over his dead wife and child. He shifted and removed his wallet, opening it and taking the photo of Kelly out. Gibbs handed it to Jenny, and she wiped at her eyes, smearing her make-up.

"She's beautiful, Jethro," she whispered, noticing how much his daughter had looked like him. For several minutes, Jenny gazed at the dog-eared photo of the little girl and handed it back to him. He tucked it behind the ultrasound picture and cleared his throat. Her hand unconsciously drifted to her abdomen, resting protectively over the child growing inside of her. Jenny desperately tried not to think of the possibility that the same fate could come to their child.

"Jenny, I murdered the man that killed my family," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I hunted him down and killed him."

She licked her wind-chapped lips and gripped his hands hard, turning his fingers white. "I would have done the same," she responded sincerely. Jenny understood his need for vengeance all too well.

Gibbs tilted his head and looked surprised at her reaction. He hadn't been expecting her to agree with his actions. After all, he wasn't proud of what he had done. She swallowed hard and looked down at their hands laced together. Jenny bit her tongue, wanting to tell Jethro why she fully understood – but it wasn't the time. He had come clean to her about his past, and maybe she should clean out the skeletons in her own closet except that was a decision she wasn't ready to make – a scar she wasn't ready to reveal.

* * *

><p>On Sunday morning, Jethro let Jenny sleep in. He'd been awake since the crack of dawn, priced groceries, and swept the store just as he'd done in his youth. Jackson told him to take a break and put two steaming cups of coffee on the table. Jethro sat down at the table and took the mug. The younger Gibbs reached for the untouched newspaper, and his father swiftly took it. Jackson handed him the section of the newspaper he wanted his son to have, and Jethro frowned.<p>

"Tell me about this investigator thing of yours," Jackson said, removing his eyes from the newspaper's fine print and placing them on his son. "We haven't talked since you started it. In fact, we haven't talked since the funeral," he paused as he watched his son's expression change. "I adored that wife of yours, and I adored that child too…always figured it was Shannon that sent me the Christmas cards."

Jethro took a deep breath and set his hot coffee down. He couldn't talk about his first wife and child with his father. Yesterday's talk with Jenny had made the pain fresh and new all over again, and he couldn't deal with adding his father to that pain. He decided to change the topic of conversation. "Well, it's like what you do," he answered his father's request of explaining his job.

"What? Selling groceries?" Jack inquired.

"No, you like to tell a story," Gibbs explained and sipped his coffee.

"Well, I've been known to spin a yarn or two."

"Yeah," Jethro said. "Most of mine start with a dead body. You look into how they got that way; they come back to life. You see what they try to show you. You read what they try to hide."

"People come in here all the time. Tell me their life stories at the drop of a hat. What are they trying to hide?" his father inquired, all the while admiring the man his son had become.

"Insecurity," Jethro responded, keenly meeting his father's eyes. "Need assurance their life means something," he added.

Jackson stared at the newspaper and pushed it away roughly. He rested his arms on the table and looked thoughtful for a moment before meeting his son's blue eyes. "Leroy, what did I do at the funeral?" he asked. He had the chance to ask his only child and thought this was finally the moment to find out what he'd done wrong all those years ago.

"You mean, other than showing up with a date?" Jethro responded bitterly.

"I always thought that your mom and I had a love story for the ages," Jack said. He missed Ann every day since she passed away. "I never regretted giving up the skies - working underground every day in the mines. I wanted to give you that white picket-fence dream," Jack concluded sadly. He hoped his hard work hadn't been all for nothing with raising his boy.

"And you did," Jethro told him softly.

"But you see things did not work out between your mom and me. When she died, I know how mad that made you. I know how you hated me for getting on with my life," Jackson said as he kept eye contact with Jethro. "I saw the look in your face - how you wanted vengeance. And that look went away when you met Shannon, but it came back quick after they died. I knew what that meant. You were gonna find someone to take it out on. Didn't matter what I said."

"It never did," Jethro asserted. He shook his head and stared at the man across from him. "What do you see now?" he asked softly.

"It's gone," Jackson stated simply, his voice laced with sadness. The older man glanced at Jenny when she came into the room. He smiled at her and looked at his son. "And that's why it's not there anymore."

"Thanks, Dad," Jethro responded earnestly. He smiled when his father beamed at him. Jackson cleared his throat gently, grateful to be called dad by his son instead of hearing his first name. Perhaps the two of them could start to mend their damaged relationship.

Jenny sleepily flopped down next to Jethro and scooted the chair closer to him. She cuddled into his side and moved his arm to go around her while she rested her head on his shoulder. He smirked and knew it would probably be a good full hour before Jenny was fully awake. "Want breakfast?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes momentarily attempting to hang onto the comfort of sleep.

"Orange juice?"

Jenny tilted her head to look up at him and clamped her hand firmly over his mouth. Jackson chuckled and shook his head. He finally handed over the section of the paper that Jethro had wanted earlier. The old man walked to the front door of the store and flipped the sign over, revealing the store was open for the day. He turned back and gazed at his son and the redhead, smiling to himself. It seemed his son had finally found happiness, and he wanted it to last.


	6. V

_April 2000_

The cherry blossoms had begun to bloom into that beautiful pastel pink, but there was still a redhead in Georgetown sipping hot chocolate from a polka dot mug in front of the fireplace. Jenny glanced at the grandfather clock and shifted in the high back leather chair with a sigh. She sat crossways in the chair and let her feet dangle. Her thoughts drifted to Shannon and Kelly even though it had been weeks since the trip to Stillwater. Since finding out about his tragic past, Jenny had seen him through renewed sight. Gibbs made more sense to her now than he ever had before – his overprotective streak, his near infallible judgment, and his death wish attitude. It scared her to think that she might actually love him more for sharing those secrets with her. She sipped the hot chocolate and felt the pangs of guilt for the times she hadn't told him about her doctor's appointments, not finding out the sex of the baby, and for not telling him that she was pregnant with his child as soon as she had returned to the States. Jenny couldn't take those missteps back, but she'd tell him everything from here on out. She stretched her legs and stared at the hypnotic flames of the fire, listening to the crackle of the wood burning. For a second time, the redhead glanced at the clock. Jenny covered her mouth as she yawned, deciding to give Gibbs a few more minutes before she gave up on him coming home at a reasonable hour.

Minutes later, Jethro entered the townhouse and closed the door behind him as softly as possible, trying not to wake Jenny if she was sleeping. The silver-haired-off-duty special agent hung his coat on the rack in the corner of the foyer. He had a mile wide smile on his face as he entered the study. Jenny glanced at him as he bent down to kiss her. She smiled softly at the sight of her man. "Why are you so happy? Finally gave DiNozzo a concussion?"

Gibbs chuckled. "Nope. Recruited a new agent," he replied, sitting down on the leather ottoman near the redhead. Jethro leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Pissed off the FBI and the Secret Service," he added proudly as though he had won a game of playground marbles.

"He or she?" she inquired. Jenny wouldn't bother asking how he pissed off the other agencies. It was a daily occurrence for Gibbs to incense someone, whether it was at the bottom or at the very top of the totem pole while doing his job. In fact, she was well aware that it was one of his favorite pastimes.

"Caitlin Todd. You'd like her," he replied, ever so slightly smug.

Jenny nodded her head then smirked. "Redhead?"

Jethro grabbed her foot and pinched her ankle playfully. The smart aleck redhead shrieked and kicked at him. He shook his head and gestured to the mug. "What're you drinkin'?"

"Hot chocolate," Jenny answered. Gibbs took the mug from her and took a gulp of the drink. His face quickly contorted in distaste, and he spit the liquid back into the mug.

"That is not hot chocolate, Jenny. What is _that_?" Jethro questioned, keenly staring into the mug as if he could force the hot chocolate to divulge its secrets in the same way he could do a suspect.

"Aztec hot chocolate."

Jethro's brows knitted in sharply in utter confusion and bewilderment. Jenny laughed gently at his repsonse. Her eyes glinted in the firelight as she leaned forward to take her unsanitary cup of hot chocolate from him. "Milk, chopped dark chocolate, cinnamon, and a _tiny_ pinch of cayenne."

"That's more than a pinch, Jen," Gibbs remarked roughly. His mouth and throat still burned from that so-called pinch of cayenne.

Jenny smirked and stood to her feet. She looked down at the cup in her hands and frowned, scrunching her nose up in a manner that Gibbs simply found adorable. "I'm going to put this in the sink."

"Why? You got half of it left," he said, reaching out and adjusting the errant strap of her camisole.

"You spit in it!" she exclaimed.

Gibbs looked outraged and cocked a brow at her. "You've swallowed my –" he stopped abruptly because of the blistering glare he was receiving and undeniably regretted making that statement.

"What were you saying, Jethro? What have I swallowed of yours?" Jenny questioned with a shrewd and dangerous smirk forming on her lips. She had to admit she was enjoying watching the man wriggle and squirm in front of her.

"Cheerios," he offered awkwardly. "You've swallowed my cheerios."

"Jesus, Jethro! Cheerios?"

"Yeah," Gibbs drawled. "Honey nut," he added as if that little detail rectified his comment.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to hide her amusement from his lowbrow joke. "You are such a barbarian. I'll never be able to look at that cereal the same way," Jenny admitted truthfully as a velvety giggle departed from her lips. She shook her head at him and walked out of the study.

He grinned devilishly and followed her into the kitchen, pulling a stool out at the breakfast bar and sitting down.

"Noemi made chili and cornbread. It's in the fridge," Jenny told him as she washed the mug at the sink. She listened to the refrigerator door open, the scrunching of foil, and the door closing. Jethro set the container on the counter, and Jenny removed a bowl from the cabinet, handing it to him. "Jethro, I'm sorry," she blurted out suddenly and squeezed his arm.

He looked at her curiously; he was at a complete loss as to why she was apologizing. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," Jethro responded faintly. He dumped chili into the bowl and popped it into the microwave, punching buttons at a rapid pace to set the timer.

"Yes, I do," she stated – firmly, sadly, and regretfully. "I should have told you I was pregnant as soon as I returned to D.C., and I shouldn't have kept doctor's appointments from you. I'm sorry."

"Jen," he said and turned to her, looking her in the eyes. "It's in the past."

"But Jethro, I should have," she began but stopped when his index finger came over her lips.

"It's in the past, Jenny," he said decisively. Jethro meant it sincerely. He wanted to move forward with her and not live and wallow solidly in his past.

She sighed softly, and he felt the gentle air from her breath on his fingertip. When the microwave sounded, he removed his finger from her lips and took the bowl of homemade chili out. Gibbs sat down at the bar and looked at the redhead, still standing at the microwave and staring at him. "Gonna sit with me?"

"In a minute," Jenny replied and warmed two pieces of cornbread in the microwave. She grabbed a longneck bottle of his preferred beer out of the fridge and slid it across the counter to him. After that, Jenny moved and sat next to him. He glanced at her, nodding in thanks for the piece of cornbread. Between spoonfuls of chili, Jethro noticed her picking at her slice of cornbread as opposed to eating it like she was supposed to be. "Jen, what is it?" He could tell something was nipping at her, and he wondered if it was his past. They hadn't discussed much of it since returning to D.C., and he guessed now was a good time. "You okay?"

"We can find out the sex of the baby," Jenny blurted out.

"You don't want that," he pointed out gruffly, eyeing her.

"You do," she countered. "We can find out."

"I don't care, Jen. It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl. Healthy is what matters."

"Jethro, if it's a girl –"

"I'll be fine."

"Will you?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," Gibbs answered. His blue eyes locked with her green eyes for several long moments. "Stop worryin'," he instructed gently and leaned over, kissing her temple comfortingly.

"I can't help but worry. It's all I seem to do lately," she muttered.

Jethro laughed and received a glare just before her fist landed squarely into his bicep. "Ow."

"You deserved it."

He drank from his bottle of beer and took a bite of chili. "What are you worrying about, Jen?" he asked softly.

"Jethro, you don't want to know," she answered, trying to laugh it off and failing miserably.

Gibbs nudged her with his elbow. "C'mon. I'm a good listener."

Jenny rolled her eyes and nibbled on the cornbread. "The nursery's not ready. We haven't discussed names. I don't know where to start with it all. Time's flying by, and we're not prepared. We cannot bring the kid home from the hospital and let it sleep in a laundry basket," she said, her voice rising in pace and pitch as she continued.

He listened to her and couldn't hide the grin on his face. Jethro had been patiently waiting for her to take the first step with getting things ready for the baby. It seemed like Jenny was at long last showing signs of maternal instinct. He eased an arm around her. "We'll get it done, Jenny. I promise," Gibbs told her seriously. He was a marine, and she knew that he would never break that promise.

* * *

><p>Leroy Jethro Gibbs stopped in the middle of a sanding stroke and viciously glared at the ceiling and the noise above him. His old television set was blaring. The raucous, grating laughter along with the heavy thuds of feet on the carpeted floor were driving him close to the edge of insanity. His cell phone kept ringing and ringing. Gibbs snatched the phone off the workbench and peered at the number appearing on the lit up screen. <em>Stephanie<em>. Before that rejected redhead could leave another weepy, hysterical voicemail, Jethro tossed his bruised and battered phone into a jug of paint thinner. He'd ended his relationship with Stephanie Flynn a week before Jenny waltzed back into his life, but she had to stalker call him tonight because it was their anniversary – at least, that's what he deciphered from the first sobbing message she'd left on his phone. Gibbs had taken care of one annoyance for the night, but he still had DiNozzo upstairs. He shouldn't have ever agreed to let the agent stay with him while his apartment was being fumigated. Through clenched teeth, Jethro turned on the ancient radio and let out a sigh of relief for the music of Johnny Cash. Maybe that would keep him from murdering Anthony DiNozzo.

In the living room, DiNozzo threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth and munched loudly. He laughed hysterically at _National Lampoon's Vacation_. The Italian had seen it a million times, but it was always funny to him. He was so engrossed in the film that he didn't even hear the front door open or close. "Damn," Tony muttered as he dropped the bowl and its contents on the floor. With a lot of grumbling, he leaned over to pick it up. His eyes landed on black high heels. As he returned to a sitting position, his eyes followed those heels to the ankles, to the knees, to the hips, and finally to the face of _that_ redhead. DiNozzo nearly choked on his mouthful of popcorn. "You – you're the redhead from…" he idiotically rambled. "You're...I can't...you are..."

Jenny ignored his chattering and took off her coat, throwing it onto the sofa. DiNozzo's hazel eyes widened, and he pointed like a child. "You're pregnant!" he shouted. Tony hadn't noticed Jenny's swollen middle because of the bulky winter coat, but he definitely had noticed when she'd come out of the coat and slightly turned to the side.

Finally, Jenny met his eyes and smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Did Jethro teach you those fine observational skills?" she inquired derisively. Jenny needed to have a talk with Jethro about his probie's skills, especially if Tony had only realized she was pregnant until after she removed her coat or maybe she wasn't as large as she felt. The expectant redhead shook her head in disbelief at the probie agent. She had to be as big as a house considering she was quickly barreling into the third trimester.

"Jethro?" he questioned, momentarily forgetting whom this mysterious Jethro was. "Oh!" he cried like he'd been struck by lightning or discovered the meaning of life. "Gibbs?"

"That is what I said," Jenny retorted, resting her hand on top of her belly.

"Actually, you said Jethro. I don't know how you can get away with that because he'd kill me if I ever called him that. I mean he doesn't even know my name…I don't think. Well, he knows my last name. I don't think he knows my first name. It's Anthony by the way. My friends call me Tony which backwards is 'y not.'"

Jenny tapped her foot on the floor and debated on killing Jethro's very special agent that apparently had the mental age of a kindergartner. She knew he was long-winded from nerves, and she'd heard from Gibbs how curious he was about her. Jenny let him ramble away before clearing her throat and saccharinely smiling at him. "Well, Tony, I appreciate your help. I'll show myself to the basement and have to tell Jethro our night of wild sex is off since he has a house guest."

"Jen," Gibbs growled dangerously from behind her. She turned and winked at him, still smiling beautifully. Jethro glanced at the younger man – slack jawed, stunned, and practically drooling. "C'mon," he rumbled, grabbing Jenny by the elbow and pulling her out of the living room, and effectively out of the way of prying eyes. "Goddammit, Jenny," he chastised as he guided her down the stairs to the basement. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Lighten up, Jethro. It was funny. You cannot tell me that wasn't funny!" She pushed his shoulder playfully. "C'mon, you know you want to laugh."

Jethro shook his head, attempting to hide the amused smirk on his face. Jenny smiled and nudged him. "Told you," she remarked triumphantly.

"What are you doing here? I told you not to come over because of him."

"I got worried. You weren't answering your phone. I thought you'd killed him and might need help hiding the body," the redhead state seriously.

Gibbs laughed out loud and smiled at her, pulling her close to him. He kept beaming at her until she was uncomfortable. "What?"

"You care enough to help me hide a body, Jen."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled softly until his mouth came over hers in a gentle caress. Jenny slipped her arms around his neck and surrendered to the kiss as his tongue attentively explored her mouth. Gibbs pulled back and groaned, burying his face into her shoulder. He hated to stop himself, but he needed to before it turned into something more. The man would hate to give DiNozzo something to talk about at headquarters. The younger agent had created enough scuttlebutt with just a glimpse of the pair, and Gibbs didn't want to imagine that storm that Tony would cause if he caught the boss with his pants down. Jenny rubbed the middle of his back and calmed herself down from that kiss. "Hey," she whispered. "Why weren't you answering your phone?"

Jethro lifted his head and pointed to the can of paint thinner. "Ah, I see. Which ex?" she inquired lightly.

"Stephanie," he muttered.

"Why is she calling you?"

Gibbs heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his cropped hair in exasperation. "It'd be our five month anniversary."

"Oh, how sweet," Jenny cooed sarcastically.

Jethro rolled his eyes and picked up a mason jar of nails. Quickly, he dumped the nails out of the jar and filled the glass with his cherished strong bourbon. Jenny laughed gently and rubbed his shoulders. Her slender fingers worked out the tight knots and kinks of stress and tension that his day had caused. Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny noticed the beginnings of a new woodworking project and arched an eyebrow. "Jethro," she spoke his name tenderly. "What's that?" she questioned.

"Where?" he asked, eyes closed and enjoying the feel of her fingers on his neck. A content sigh escaped from him. Jethro sipped his bourbon leisurely, enjoying the slow burn.

"In the corner."

"A cradle," he answered simply without even opening his eyes.

Jenny swallowed hard and felt her eyes watering. She cursed under her breath as her hands faltered in their actions of loosening the sore, tight muscles of her lover's neck and cleared her throat, willing herself not to cry. "Dammit," she murmured, silently cursing her pregnancy hormones for her emotional state.

Gibbs turned around and saw the tears glistening on her cheeks even in the dim basement light. "Are you crying?" he asked. She'd never been much for tears except for that time she'd taken a bullet to the thigh in the Czech Republic. Hell, he probably would have cried too if it had been him. He shuddered at that memory and cupped her face, wiping a tear away carefully with his thumb.

"I'm not crying. I have sawdust in my eye," she corrected him, blatantly lying.

He smirked at her in disbelief and stroked her cheek. "Yeah, it's sawdust."

Jenny put her arms around his waist, hugging him and holding on tightly. She jumped when Gibbs bellowed at the crouching, snooping agent at the top of the stairs. From his hunkered down position in the laundry room, DiNozzo just about fell down the rickety basement stairs.

* * *

><p>In the middle of the night, the redhead tossed and turned in bed. Jenny sighed heavily and glanced lovingly at the man beside her – peacefully sleeping. She stared up at the ceiling and began counting the baby's kicks, smiling softly at the sensation. After a few minutes, Jenny rolled over to her side and shook Jethro's shoulder. "You awake?" He didn't move a muscle, and she shook his shoulder with more force.<p>

Gibbs mumbled and opened his sleep-riddled eyes. He yawned and met Jenny's eyes as she peered down at him.

"Oh, good. You're awake," she whispered.

He peered at the digital clock on the nightstand and frowned, rubbing his face and groaning at the woman's actions. "It's 2AM. Why are you awake?"

"I can't sleep," she said simply.

Jethro sighed. He didn't like how it was becoming routine for her to be restless and wake him up at the same time every night. Three nights ago, Gibbs had given up on trying to get her to talk to him. He stretched his arm out across her pillow, inviting her to snuggle into his side. Jenny took the invitation and instantly molded her body against his, putting her head on his shoulder and using it as a pillow. She sighed softly and made lazy circles on his toned chest as she chewed her bottom lip. "Jethro," she said in a low voice.

"Yeah?" he responded, half asleep.

"I understand it," was her quiet reply.

Gibbs tilted his head and stared at the crown of her auburn head. Jenny had caught him off guard; he wasn't quite sure what she understood. She didn't look up at him but kept making those small circles on his chest, a habit that relaxed them both. "Why you went after Pedro Hernandez," she explained. "I want to go after the man that killed my father."

"Jenny," he said roughly as he sat up. She groaned at the change in position and moved to lie back against the headboard of the bed. "Your father committed suicide." Jenny had told him about Colonel Jasper Shepard through tears after she'd gotten way too drunk one night. That night in London had been the anniversary of her father's untimely and unarguably tragic death.

"No, he didn't," she replied resolutely. Gibbs turned to her, locking eyes with her. He reached out, grasping her hand and urging her to continue. Jenny squeezed Jethro's calloused hand tightly, almost as thought she was taking strength from him, and swallowed hard. She took a few moments to compose herself. "Before my father died, he was under investigation for allegedly taking a bribe from an arms dealer. "Jethro, my father would have never done that."

"You think the arms dealer was the source of the allegations, killed your father, and made it look like a suicide," he concluded, his tone bordering on a mix of a question and statement.

Jenny nodded her head and looked at Jethro. "René Benoit killed my father, Jethro," she said tightly. Her voice was heavy with emotion that he understood all too well.

He pulled her to him and rested his chin on the top of her head as he held her. "Jen, you can't go after revenge like that with a baby."

She rubbed her face against him and sighed heavily. "I know," her voice broke. "I don't want it anymore, but I should. I have to clear his name. Jethro, he was a great man. I have to but -," Jenny stopped suddenly and pressed her face into his chest, trying to gain control of her overwhelming emotions.

Gibbs cupped the back of her head and let his hand fall to the middle of her back. He smoothed his palm rhythmically over her spine in an effort to soothe her. "What do you want, Jen?" he asked cautiously, not knowing what response he would receive. Jethro loved her enough to assist her with her wishes – whatever those may be – yet he wouldn't allow her to travel down that dangerous path and not return.

Jenny lifted her head and looked into his eyes with her red-rimmed emerald ones. "I don't know what I want," she lied.

He shook his head at her deception. "You always know what you want, Jen," he growled. "You haven't been sleeping worth a damn. It's eating you alive. What do you want?" Gibbs demanded.

She lowered her head and scratched roughly at her neck until her ivory skin was red with irritation. Her change of heart had turned her into an insomniac. Each day, she felt more of a bond to the life growing inside of her, and her thirst for revenge lessened with every sunrise and sunset. Finally, Jenny lifted her eyes and wiped at her tear stained cheeks. "I want you and the baby. What kind of daughter am I? I don't want to clear my father's name and restore his career. What kind of daughter am I?" she repeated the question as she broke into sobs that wrenched his heart.

Jethro grimaced at the strain and hurt of her voice. He pressed his lips against her hair and held her tighter, rocking gently. "Jen, you're a good daughter. It's not a bad thing to realize there's more to life than revenge and vendettas. It won't make you feel any better if you kill that man. Jenny, it won't. I promise you," he told her, whispering near her ear. Gibbs spoke from experience unfortunately. He didn't want her to have that experience. "It won't bring your father back."

Jenny wiped at her eyes and hid her face in Jethro's shoulder. He held her for the rest of the night until she fitfully fell into the arms of sleep. Gibbs stared at her, hoping she wouldn't change her mind about wanting to even the score with a French arms dealer.


	7. VI

It was early as Jenny entered the squad room. She'd left for headquarters before Gibbs for once, so she could get a head start on a situation in Berlin. Jenny propped her arms on the wall behind Anthony DiNozzo's desk. She watched him for several moments before deciding her plan of action. A devilish smile came over her lips. Jenny opened her mouth, drawing her lower lip tautly inward to cover the top of her lower row of teeth. She flattened her tongue and moved it forward, letting it hover above the inside edge of her full bottom lip. The scheming NCIS agent touched the tips of her pinky fingers together and placed the inverted V formed by her fingertips under the tip of her tongue, taking a deep breath and blowing. The piercing whistle shattered the quiet room and caused DiNozzo to tumble clumsily out of his chair in seconds. He scrambled to a sitting position and closed the unauthorized game he'd been playing on the desktop computer. "Boss, I can ex-" he stopped himself abruptly mid-sentence as he turned around, putting his eyes on the laughing redhead. "It's _you_," Tony muttered.

She smiled brightly. "Yes, it's me. Where's Gibbs?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. He doesn't check in with me like he does you, baby mama," DiNozzo remarked, quickly gulping in fear as Jenny's eyes narrowed at the nickname he had coined for her.

"Well, when my baby daddy gets in," she retorted smartly, "remind him that he has an appointment at 1300."

Tony nodded his head and casually saluted the woman in front of him. Jenny rolled her green eyes at him and mumbled under her breath. "Do not forget to remind him, or you won't like me," she threatened, sauntering away as the newest member of Team Gibbs entered the area. DiNozzo scrunched up his nose, stuck his tongue out, and mocked the redhead, grumbling and mumbling.

"Who was that?" Caitlin Todd asked, turning her head to the redhead who was walking away. For once, DiNozzo kept quiet. He shrugged his shoulders and checked his email, ignoring his colleague's stare. "Who was that, Tony?" she questioned a second time.

"Nobody, Kate," he answered tightly.

"Oh, I see," Kate replied. "She broke up with you. I didn't know you had a thing for redheads like Gibbs."

DiNozzo slapped his forehead and covered his face at his colleague's statement. "Kate, I'm not like Gibbs. He wouldn't appreciate me going after his woman."

Kate threw her items down, hurried to the front of Tony's desk, and gazed at him like a child in Willy Wonka's factory for the first time. "Gibbs has a girlfriend? She works here! That breaks rule twelve!" the brunette shouted as her eyebrows shot up in shock. Tony looked up, not fazed by Kate's overreacting. He'd learned that she seemed to get her panties in a bunch over the tiniest, silliest things, especially if he stole a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from her. She was too busy ranting to notice the horrified look that fell over his face. Kate folded her arms over her chest and jutted her hip out to the side. "Gibbs is a hypocrite!" she stated furiously. "He puts all of these rules on us, and he doesn't even follow them," the former Secret Service agent paused her tirade, observing DiNozzo's features and dreadfully swallowing. "Gibbs is behind me…isn't he?" she muttered, those words usually fell from DiNozzo's lips but were now falling from hers.

"Yeah, Kate," Leroy Jethro Gibb's drawled from behind his newest agent.

Slowly, Caitlin turned around and faced her boss, smiling insipidly. "I'm sure she's lovely, Gibbs." Kate glanced behind her as DiNozzo snorted at the comment about Jenny. He didn't find Jenny Shepard lovely; he found her to be intimidating. Basically, that redhead gave him the heebie-jeebies. She was the boss reincarnated as a highly attractive redhead. Tony ducked his head as Gibbs stared angrily at him.

Gibbs shifted his glare and sipped his coffee, intense eyes not leaving Caitlin Todd's face. "Kate, I didn't break rule twelve," he said gruffly, completely confusing the agent. Gibbs took another drink, coating his throat with precious Jamaican blend. "You two done belly achin'?"

Both agents nodded their heads rapidly and started to work. Gibbs sat down at his desk and glimpsed across his desk at Kate. He wouldn't ever tell her that Jenny was the reason he created that certain rule. It didn't come into play until after she'd broken his heart and left him in Paris.

"Hey boss," DiNozzo said. "Don't forget 1300 today."

Gibbs barely nodded his head and answered his phone. He listened to the voice on the other end and hung up. "Gear up," he instructed his team and headed for the elevator.

* * *

><p>The redhead gnawed the end of her ink pen and adjusted her reading glasses on the end of her nose with a sigh. She'd been working diligently for hours, and the words on the pages were beginning to blur. With a light yawn, Jenny took off her glasses and dropped them onto the nightstand. She rubbed her tired eyes and glanced at Jethro when he slid underneath the covers. "Jethro," she said critically and frowned at his appearance. "You're still wet."<p>

"Yeah, it's after 2100," he replied.

Jenny shook her head but had a soft smile on her lips. He pulled open the drawer on his nightstand, removing a small notebook and a pen. She watched him flip the pages and find the right spot. Jethro grinned at her and put his head on the pillow, inching closer to her. He rested his hand on her abdomen. "You gonna stay like that?"

"Yes," Jenny answered, adjusting the pillow behind her back and reaching for her glasses. She returned the spectacles to their rightful place at the end of her nose. "I have work to do," she reminded him and picked up a yellow highlighter.

"It works better when you're on your side, Jen," he declared as if she didn't already know that. She jerked her head towards him, giving him a defiant look. Gibbs waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah…work to do," he said, smirking and moving his hand around her middle. "Where are the feet?"

She took his hand and guided it over her ribs. "That's where the baby's been most of the day."

Jethro grinned when he felt a robust punch and jotted down the time in the notebook. He smashed his pillow together and moved even closer to Jenny. Her fingers moved through his graying hair that was more salt than pepper these days as she highlighted bits of text on the document she was looking over. After a few minutes, she abandoned her work and simply watched Jethro enjoy his new nightly routine of counting the baby's kicks.

His eyes drifted up to her. "Did that one hurt?"

Jenny shook her head. "Not really," she answered, lightly scratching his scalp. He lifted her camisole up slightly and pushed back hard after a somersault, laughing at the strong jab that followed. Jenny grimaced and tugged at Jethro's short hair. "Now, _that _hurt. My ribs are sore," the redhead stated, a pout forming on her lips.

He leaned up and kissed her lips gently in apology. She smirked, knowing too well that he enjoyed provoking their child to move around more. Jethro returned to his kick counting position and scribbled in the notebook. "Ten kicks in twenty minutes, Jen. That's quicker than last night," he noted.

"Uh huh," Jenny murmured. "I think caffeine is in peanut's veins." Jethro glimpsed at her, noticing her yawning and rubbing at her overworked and dry eyes. He shifted and delicately pulled her glasses away from her face. "What are you doing?" she inquired, receiving no response. Jethro tossed the eyeglasses onto the bedside table then removed the neon highlighter from her clutch and folders from her knees where they were resting. "It's time to relax," he told her. Jenny knew there was no arguing with him.

He kissed her forehead and moved her pillows as she slid underneath the covers. Gibbs pulled her to him, and she cuddled close, taking comfort in his familiar, unmistakable cologne of coffee and wood. He pressed his nose into her hair and breathed deeply. "I like relaxing," he said into her flaming red tresses, a diminutive smile outlining his lips.

She closed her eyes and draped her slim legs over his. Jethro bumped the tip of his chin against her head. "Don't go to sleep."

"You wanted me relaxed," Jenny replied, stifling a yawn and glaring at him through closed eyes.

"We gotta talk names first then you can sleep, Jen."

The drowsy redhead grunted in frustration and opened her eyes, moving her head onto his shoulder. "I've thought of more girl names than boy names," she admitted.

Gibbs smiled and combed his fingers through her hair. "Cross Leroy and Jethro off that list of boy names."

Jenny simpered and sighed. "I like Nolan, Alexander, Joseph, Ryan, Nathaniel, and Silas."

"Silas?" he questioned, brows knitting together in puzzlement.

"Yes, Leroy, I like Silas or did you go to school with a Silas that was a bastard back in the 1890s?"

He chuckled and kissed her temple. "Easy, Jen. It wasn't the 1890s. I went to school in the 1900s," Jethro joked wryly as she giggled softly at him. "Ryan Joseph sounds nice," he said.

"Ryan Joseph Gibbs or Silas Nathaniel Gibbs."

Jethro didn't know what hat she'd pulled Silas out of or why she was hung up on that name, but he kept his mouth shut, deciding that would probably be for the best. "We'll decide if he looks more like a Ryan Joseph or a Silas Nathaniel when he gets here."

"Fair enough," Jenny compromised. "Girls?" she probed warily, smoothing her palm over his chest and resting it over his heart, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

Gibbs cleared his throat and held her closer to him. "Hannah," he declared plainly.

Jenny scrunched her nose and shook her head. "No, not Hannah."

"Why not Hannah?" he inquired. "It's a good name."

"I went to school with a Hannah. She was a bitch," Jenny informed him.

"Lillian," Gibbs suggested. "We could call her Lilly or Lil."

She laughed softly. He always had a way of shortening names - generally to monosyllabic. "I like Vivienne, Adalyn, Grace, Jane, Suzanne, Nora, Stella, Ainsley, and Gemma."

"Gemma? Gemma Ann," Jethro murmured.

Silently, Jenny considered the combination. It was a beautiful mixture until a thought struck her, and she lifted her head, looking him in his eyes. "No, Jethro."

"Why not?" he grumbled stubbornly.

"Gemma Ann Gibbs. Her initials would be G.A.G. - _gag_," Jenny informed him.

He made a face and shook his head. Only Jenny would consider initials. Initials would have never crossed his mind.

"Oh, there's Samantha," she suggested.

"No," Jethro replied swiftly and decisively. "We're not namin' her after that woman on that show."

"What show?" Jenny asked and moved, digging her elbows into his chest to stare down at him.

"_Sex and the City_," he answered, pushing her bony, sharp elbow off his rib. "If we name her Samantha, she might turn out like her."

Jenny laughed loudly. She dipped her head into his chest causing her loose curls to tumble over her shoulders. He batted her hair away from his ticklish nose. "It's not funny, Jen. It's serious."

She lifted her head and touched his cheek. "Jethro, little girls grow into women that like and enjoy sex."

"Not my little girl," he answered sternly as she rolled her striking emerald green eyes at his paternal, overprotective nonsense.

"You are a preposterous man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"I am not," Jethro snapped.

"Yes, you are," Jenny fired back. "Our child,_ if_ she may be a girl, isn't out of the womb, and you are dictating her sex life or lack thereof."

"Jen," he growled, completely and utterly unimpressed with her blasé attitude towards the thought of their child's sex life.

"Calm down, papa bear," she cooed and rubbed his chest in pacifying circular motions. "We won't name our innocent angel of a daughter over a fictional harlot on television," Jenny promised, kissing along his jaw. "Now, what other names do you like?"

"I liked Adalyn, Nora, Stella, and Suzanne," he answered, vaguely pouting.

"I like those too and Ainsley. Adalyn Suzanne, Nora Suzanne, Ainsley Stella, Lillian Jane," Jenny rattled off the name pairings that she'd been thinking of for the last few weeks.

Jethro rubbed her back and yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth. "She'll be a Adalyn Suzanne, Lillian Jane, or Nora Suzanne," he whispered contently.

Jenny smiled brightly at him. "We'll decide later what she looks like, huh?"

He nodded his head and grinned. "That's what we'll do."

* * *

><p>Dr. Mallard poured the steaming hot Darjeeling into the delicate teacup and dropped two cubes of sugar into the tea, smiling warmly at his company. He sat down on the rolling stool and prepared his cup of tea. "Have you and Jethro discussed names?" he asked the redhead, excitement brimming in his voice.<p>

"We have. He's still giving me grief for choosing Silas Nathaniel as an option if the baby is a boy," Jenny told him while rolling her eyes and waved her hand over her tea to cool the beverage.

"What does he like?"

"Jethro approves of Ryan Joseph more than Silas Nathaniel."

Ducky chuckled and tasted his tea slowly, cautious of the heat. "And if the baby is a girl."

"Lillian Jane, Adalyn Suzanne, or Nora Suzanne," she replied, a smile covering her lips at the thought of meeting their child.

"Jennifer, those are beautiful. I wouldn't know which to choose," Ducky responded sincerely.

Her cheeks blushed at Ducky's approval as her lips curved into a smile. "Which name are you fond of, Ducky?"

"I'm rather fond of Nora. In Scotland, Nora is the feminine form of Norman, but it's also short of the Greek Eleanora and Latin Honora. Light and honor," the medical examiner explained simply. "Adalyn is quite lovely. I believe it means noble kind. A variant of the Old German Adelaide," he added and lifted his cup of Darjeeling, looking thoughtful for a brief moment before taking a sip. "No matter the name that child will have her father wrapped around her finger."

Jenny laughed softly and bowed her head in agreement. The doors to autopsy swished opened, and Ducky looked up as he consumed his evening drink. "Caitlin, my dear, won't you join us for a cup of tea?"

"Do you have anything stronger, Ducky?" the young agent asked as she stepped closer to the desk where the two old friends were sitting. She looked frazzled and worn. The suspect hadn't been taken into custody willingly. All three agents had fought with the criminal.

Ducky knowingly smiled and stood to his feet, offering the brunette his seat. "Have you met Jenny, Caitlin?"

She shook her head and glanced at the redhead, politely smiling. "I haven't," she replied to Ducky and looked at the woman she'd only caught fleeting glances of the few times they had been in the squad room at the same time. From DiNozzo, Caitlin had learned that Gibbs and Jenny were in a relationship and obviously expecting a child together. "Call me Kate. Gibbs is in interrogation."

Jenny nodded her head with a sigh. Most likely, Jethro would be in that room for most of the night. "Nice to meet you, Kate," she said and extended her hand. Ducky smiled as the women shook hands. The redhead eyed the agent critically. Jethro had raved as much as he could about Caitlin Todd. In her weeks of joining the team, she'd shown much promise of becoming a great NCIS agent, and her profiling skills rendered her a superb asset to the team.

"Am I interrupting?" Caitlin inquired, shaking her head to knock her bangs out of her eyes.

"No, my dear," Dr. Mallard answered softly as he looked for another teacup.

Jenny trailed her fingertip along the rim of the china, narrowing her eyes on the agent's neck. "Kate, you have a cut on your neck."

She touched her neck and felt the dried blood. "I didn't even notice it. Just a scratch."

Ducky found the missing cup and set it on the table. "Let me have a look," he said, instantly switching into doctor mode. He tilted Kate's head back and examined her neck. Quickly, he set about cleaning the cut.

"Ducky, it's fine. Really. It's a tiny scratch," Caitlin insisted.

Jenny shook her head. "It won't do any good. I've had a million and one scratches and cuts like that, and he's always given me a lecture on infection."

"Yes, and you listened. Jethro still does not," Ducky remarked as Kate's eyebrows rose in surprise as she momentarily looked at the female next to her. "I thought you were an analyst."

"Now," Jenny replied. "I used to be in the field until," she gestured to her middle.

"Do you miss it?" Kate asked and looked at the medical examiner strangely when he loudly cleared his throat.

"I do miss it," Jenny answered with a nostalgic tone. Yet she knew that Jethro did not miss her being in the field every day.

Agent Todd stared at her while Ducky bandaged the cut on her neck. She couldn't visualize the ill-natured, inarticulate mute Gibbs as a father. It was hard enough imagining him in a relationship. On a daily basis, that man infuriated her with his abrasive, crusty ways. Kate shrugged her shoulders and thanked Ducky once he finished mending her.

Dr. Mallard sat down after giving Caitlin a cup of Darjeeling and looked at the redhead thoughtfully. "Did Jethro suggest any names?"

"Hannah," she stated.

Quickly, Kate made a face of disgust and hatred. "Oh no. I went to school with a Hannah. She was a bitch."

Jenny laughed and looked at the brunette. "That's the same thing I said. He did suggest Gemma Ann, and I turned that down. Her initials would be G.A.G."

Ducky laughed heartily. "As much as Jethro is a skilled investigator, he does not take some things into consideration."

Kate took a drink of tea and turned to Jenny. "Is it a girl? Is that too personal to ask?"

"It's not too personal," she replied, finding it nice to have a conversation with a female besides Noemi. After all, Kate was an agent; she understood the job and was no doubt well aware of the issues pregnancy and motherhood may pose on it. "We don't know the sex of the baby."

The other agent grinned and bit her bottom lip not to laugh. She knew that had to drive the control freak, need to know everything Gibbs to the brink of insanity. Ducky sipped his tea and listened to the girls chatter away. Kate kindly elbowed him. "If you'd had children, what would you have named them?" she asked.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he thought about the one woman he'd fallen in love with years ago. She'd been the only one he'd ever considered marrying and having children with. "I was always fond of the name Alastair for a son. Callan was another though. For a daughter, Arwen Cecilia," he told Caitlin, a shadow of regret laced in his mellowed Scottish accent. Jenny squeezed his hand in a hope to comfort him, flashing a warmhearted smile at him. She knew how hard it could be when one regretted something so much. Jenny was lucky, however, that she had been given a second chance with Jethro. Ducky patted Jenny's hand and lifted her slender hand to his lips, chastely kissing it. He stood to his feet. "I'm going to venture upstairs to the vending machines. Would you like anything?"

Kate shook her head. "No thank you, Ducky."

"Jennifer?"

"Peanut butter crackers, please."

He nodded his head and left autopsy. Jenny lifted the ornate teapot and refilled her cup. Kate watched her intently, debating on asking all of the questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. Jenny smirked softly and caught the other woman's eyes. "Ask what you want. I may or may not answer."

Caitlin laughed gently as her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Is it that obvious?"

"Somewhat. I know you and DiNozzo both have questions, and I'd rather tell you than him."

Kate placed her cup onto the table and folded her hands in her lap. "How did you and Gibbs meet?"

Jenny bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes as she thought about her first day at NCIS. It had been lust at first sight when she met Leroy Jethro Gibbs even if she'd collided into him getting off the elevator and spilled his coffee all over him. "Jethro was my mentor. He taught me everything I know."

"Wait, you were on his team but rule twelve," Caitlin sputtered.

"Rule twelve?" Jenny questioned, unable to recognize the connection.

"Gibbs has these rules, and –"

The redhead raised her hand, cutting her off immediately. "I know the rules, Kate, with the exception of twelve."

"Twelve is never date a coworker."

"Really?" Jenny responded, feeling as though someone had just punched her in the stomach. She made the mental note to grill Jethro about that rule later. Caitlin Todd had the feeling that she had mentioned something that she shouldn't have, but she simply took a drink of tea.

In the medical examiner's absence, Jenny learned that Kate was only a year younger than her. The two women learned they had quite a bit in common – a dislike for Gibbs' chauvinistic ways, DiNozzo's mild misogynic tendencies, and a love of fashion. The pair smiled at Ducky on his return to the cold home of autopsy.

"A thought occurred to me while I was getting the provisions," Ducky remarked, blue eyes focused on his auburn haired colleague.

"What?" Jenny questioned hesitantly, biting her lip, and took the pack of peanut butter crackers from him. She opened the package and munched on a cracker.

"With all this talk of names, I realized I have never known your middle name, Jennifer."

"Aoibheann," Gibbs announced as he strolled through the autopsy doors. He grinned smugly at Jenny when she glanced over her shoulder to stare at him in surprise, and he locked eyes with her. "Irish and Gaelic origin. Means beautiful," Jethro finished, still looking extremely proud of himself. "Right, Duck?"

"Correct you are, Jethro," Ducky replied, smiling gleefully at the couple. He looked at Kate and gave her a wink.

Jenny didn't break eye contact with the man she loved, gazing at him in amazement. She'd thought he hadn't been paying her any attention on that first night in Marseilles when caffeine had replaced her blood supply causing her to mindlessly ramble about how much she disliked her mother for giving her that Irish name. After all, no one could ever properly pronounce it. Jethro leaned forward, stealing a quick kiss while Kate turned a blind eye. He rubbed his nose against hers and stole a cracker from his better half, popping it into his mouth. Her eyes widened, and those feelings of love and admiration faded like a falling star. She smacked his hand and gave him a cold glare. "Jethro!"

"What?" he asked innocently, mouthful of peanut buttery cracker goodness.

She shook her head at him, and he pulled her up from her seat. "You could have asked."

"You woulda said no," Jethro retorted, knocking stray cracker crumbs off his shirt. He flicked his eyes to Caitlin. "Kate, go home," he ordered, knowing she'd had a rough and tough day. "Save the paperwork for tomorrow," Gibbs instructed, turning to Jenny after Caitlin bowed her head in gratitude for permission to end the workday.

"Jethro, you don't steal food from a pregnant woman," the redhead expressed irritably, rubbing her sore lower back.

Gibbs threw his arms up and let them fall at his sides in exasperation, mildly glaring at her. If he had to hear Jenny fuss about one measly peanut butter cracker all night, he'd sleep on the couch. "You know what, Jen?"

"No, I don't know what. I'm sure you'll tell me," she snapped, walking towards the exit.

"Rule eighteen. It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission. I teach you everything I know then you go off by yourself and forget everything I taught you," he griped, placing his hand on the middle of her back.

Jenny huffed and gnawed the inside of her cheek in annoyance. She remembered everything he taught her - on the job and off the job. The fiery redhead stopped on her heels and harshly thrust her index finger into his shoulder. "Oh, that reminds me, Jethro," she uttered, pressing her finger in until his face contorted in pain. "What's this about rule twelve – never date a coworker?"

Jethro gulped and made the decision to stop letting Jen hang out in autopsy since they seemed to always get into a squabble afterwards. He turned around slowly to give his latest agent a dirty look. Kate weakly smiled at the special agent in charge and waved to him. Her intuition had been right earlier, and she regretted mentioning that specific rule to Jenny. She listened to the couple bicker all the way to the elevator. "Ducky, how does that work?" Caitlin inquired.

Ducky chuckled and patted Kate's shoulder. "Believe it or not those two make a good team. They are better together than apart," he told her reflectively as he turned the lights off, walking with Caitlin to the elevator.


	8. VII

_May 2000_

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was so far outside of his comfort zone that is was unbelievable. He silently drummed his fingers on his knee and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was nothing to do to pass the time. Jethro seemed to be the _only_ male in the room and was surrounded by women in various stages of pregnancy. He tapped his foot on the carpeted floor and thumped his fingers against his knee faster. Jenny enclosed her hand over his agitated one and met his eyes. "Will you stop?" she requested quietly, grasping his fingers to prevent their jittery movements. "It's a routine visit."

He sighed and ceased his fidgeting. Jenny leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered and kept hold of his hand, lacing her fingers into his and pulling it over to rest on her swollen abdomen. Gibbs cleared his throat and glanced around the room. He'd missed all of this with Kelly because of his deployment. When Jenny's name was eventually called, he followed behind her like a lost puppy, watching while she stepped on the scales and had her blood pressure taken. Gibbs nervously stood outside the bathroom, and Jenny nearly collided into him when she came out. "Jethro," the redhead whispered loudly in reprimand. "I would have killed you if you made me spill this," she informed him and tapped her nail against the small plastic cup sealed with a blue lid.

Gibbs looked down at the cup as his brows knitted in confusion. "What is it?"

"A urine sample," she answered with a chuckle and handed it over to the nurse.

Jethro made a face at the thought of that being spilled all over him - or worse - being spilled on her. He'd rather have steaming hot coffee poured on him. He followed behind Jenny and the nurse down the hall to patiently wait in the exam room.

"You okay?" Jenny inquired softly. It was really his first start to finish appointment with her. Jethro hadn't arrived late or hadn't been unable to attend at all like previous times. He'd missed the last visit because of a case involving a Marine that died during a nighttime training jump.

"Yeah, Jen," Jethro answered and met her eyes. "Never done this part before."

"I haven't either," she replied, winking at him playfully.

Gibbs chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing Jenny's cheek. She smiled at him, relieved that her little joke had alleviated some of his nerves. With keen interest, Gibbs observed the doctor when she entered the room – honey colored medium length hair, maybe late forties, brown eyes, and a professional demeanor. She wasn't the doctor he remembered from the last visit he'd attended. His eyes stole a glance at the nametag, and he knew he was meeting Jenny's actual obstetrician. Dr. Juliet Morgan had returned from her Caribbean vacation; Gibbs had heard Jenny gripe enough about that. He listened to all the questions Dr. Morgan asked and especially to all of Jenny's responses. Jethro smiled from ear to ear as the sound of his child's heartbeat reached his ears. The father had heard it a handful of times now, but that precious noise was always new and different to his ears – always just as magical as the first time he heard it. Jenny glimpsed at him with an affectionate smile on her face. The redhead knew that listening to the heartbeat was his favorite part of the check up.

During the physical exam, Dr. Morgan frowned slightly and chewed her bottom lip as her hands thoroughly moved over Jenny's abdomen, her fingers pushing in and around. Jenny grimaced slightly at the pressure that was applied, causing Gibbs to straighten in his seat and take a deep breath as Jenny's grip on his hand tightened. "Jenny, I'd like to do an ultrasound today," Dr. Morgan announced.

"Why? What's wrong?" the redhead inquired; worry beginning to edge its way into her voice.

"Nothing's wrong. There are a few things I'd like to get a closer look at," Dr. Morgan said reassuringly as she sat down, looking at the parents. "Around this time is when the baby locks into position, it feels like the baby is breech. Also, the baby's measuring smaller than the last visit. There could be a number of reasons for that, but I'll know more once the ultrasound is done. I'd rather play it safe and make sure is all," Dr. Morgan explained calmly.

"Do what you have to," Gibbs finally spoke and waited for Dr. Morgan to leave the room. He looked down at Jenny, rubbing her arm. She anxiously gnawed the inside of her cheek. "Nothing's wrong. She hasn't said anything is wrong."

"Jethro, what if something _is _wrong?" she asked, distressed and worried about the number of other things the obstetrician had mentioned.

He shook his head and rested his forehead against hers as he breathed deeply. "Jen, don't think like that until the doc says something is actually wrong," he stated, putting on a façade of utter calm for the sake of the mother of his child.

She sighed heavily and clutched the diamond pendant of her necklace. "She said the baby's breech. I hope she's wrong about that. Jethro," Jenny titled her head and met his eyes. "I don't want to be cut open."

"Jen, the baby could move," Gibbs told her, doing his best to sound positive. He had no idea how likely it would be for the infant to settle into the appropriate position, but he knew Jenny didn't want a caesarean section at all. It would be more recovery time, and Jenny never cared for down time. All he could see was her disobeying doctor's orders and popped stitches. He looked up when Dr. Morgan returned to the room, wheeling the machinery in.

The two of them remained silent as the ultrasound was done. Gibbs cleared his throat softly and focused his azure eyes intently on the fuzzy black and white image. He'd been to a handful of appointments with Jenny, but he'd never witnessed a scan. Jethro couldn't hide the tiny smile of delight as he discerned the baby was sucking his or her thumb. Jenny held onto Jethro's hand until her knuckles turned white. He brushed his lips over her knuckles and caught her green eyes, mouthing that it all would be okay.

Finally, Dr. Morgan looked at the both of them. "Everything seems to be fine on the ultrasound. Jenny, I want you to up your calorie intake to give the baby a growth spurt. It's only a slight growth difference from the last visit. We'll do another ultrasound and a few tests on your next visit. She's healthy but just might be five or six pounds when she arrives. She is breech at the moment. If she doesn't flip around, I can try to move her myself."

"She?" Jenny asked, hastily propping up on her elbows and staring at Dr. Morgan as the woman gulped, wincing at her mistake. "You didn't want to know the sex," Dr. Morgan murmured. "I'm sorry for ruining the surprise. I must have left my brain in St. Lucia."

"No, no, it's fine," Jenny said quickly as her lips curved into a bright smile at the information. She was terrified yet thrilled at the thought of raising a daughter. Her mind stopped racing when she felt Jethro let go of her hand. The redhead turned and sucked in her breath as her eyes fell on him. Jenny barely heard the words Dr. Morgan spoke to her as she stared at the father of her child. He was quiet – too quiet even for him. Jenny jumped slightly at the sound of the exam room door closing behind Dr. Morgan and wiped the cool gel off her abdomen. She pulled her top down and carefully sat up. "Jethro," she whispered, concerned.

He swallowed hard and stood to his feet, offering his hand to her without saying a word. Jenny took it and slid off the table carefully, watching as he strolled to the door. Quickly, she moved to stand in front of him and took him by the shoulders, gazing into his eyes and repeating his name. Gibbs glanced at her and masked the pain and memories invading him, but Jenny tilted her head and stared into his eyes, seeing right through him. She embraced him and rested her face against his chest, closing her eyes and releasing a shaky breath.

* * *

><p>The darkness surrounded him as he sat down on a sawhorse near the worktable and downed the remaining bourbon in his mason jar. Lazily, Gibbs swung his arm overhead and hit the dusty light, knocking it on. He squinted at the brightness that filled the room and poured more Maker's Mark into the jar that had previously been filled with nuts and bolts. Jethro lifted the glass and slowly drank, letting the alcohol blister his throat. In his other hand, he held a worn cassette tape. The graying NCIS agent pulled the tape player to him and put the tape in, pressing play. His eyes burned as the old recording filled the room, and he hummed along to the soft piano playing of <em>Hush, Little Baby<em>.

_I love you, Daddy. Love you._

Gibbs swallowed hard, fighting the emotion boiling inside of him at the sound of Kelly's innocent voice. He missed his little girl – the sound of her laughter reaching his ears, the sparkle of her eyes when she smiled, the feel of her arms around his neck, and everything else about his daughter. God, he missed her mother too. He knew he'd always miss Shannon. He put the mason jar to his lips and sipped leisurely as he rewound the tape back to the beginning. Jethro grabbed a screwdriver and popped open an old metal keepsake box, dumping out photos onto the workbench and scattering them around him.

For hours, Jethro just listened to the tape and drank, wallowing in memories in the solitude of his basement. He'd dropped Jenny off in Georgetown after the doctor's appointment and hadn't heard from her since. Perhaps somehow she knew he needed to be alone just like she always knew what he needed. Gibbs sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, glancing towards the finished cradle in the corner of the room. His sad blue eyes looked back at the cassette tape player, and he ran his hand over his face roughly, letting his back fall solidly against the cold wall of the basement. In a few weeks, he was going to be a father for a second time and to another girl. Jethro couldn't shake off the guilt and fear that was plaguing him. The new baby made him feel like he was moving on from Kelly, and he was terrified that something _could_ happen to the baby. He refilled his makeshift glass with strong bourbon and downed it quickly, slamming his head back against the wall and gripping the jar. The alcohol numbed most of the pain and dark, menacing thoughts in his head. Moments later, the man didn't bother opening his eyes when he heard the front door close. He recognized the footsteps and that perfume the closer it came to him.

Jenny descended the rickety stairs carefully and bit her bottom lip as her eyes landed on him. She hurt for him, but there were truly no words she could say to ease his pain. The redhead came to stand in front of him and took the mason jar out of his fingers, setting it onto the cluttered worktable. Her eyes fell on the photographs, and her hand went over her heart. "C'mon," she said gently. "Let's go home," she suggested. From the look on his face, Jenny knew that he was miles away from her and drifting into the past from the earlier news. His heartache and grief were palpable, hanging over the room like a black cloud.

Jethro shook his head, finally opening his eyes. He reached over, hitting play on the cassette player for the thousandth time. "Listen to it," Jethro demanded, slurring faintly.

"Okay," she answered in a whisper as she stood in front of him. Her eyes watered at the sound of his deceased wife and daughter's voices. "It's beautiful," Jenny murmured and delicately dabbed at her eyes as the years old recording ended. The redhead understood how something so simple as that audio on the cassette from years ago could cause grief to be fresh and alive. It was like a flashback – only much more real. She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, catching him when he stumbled.

"Can't do it, Jen," Jethro mumbled, falling against her and burying his face into the crook of her neck. "Not again," he stammered drunkenly against her neck.

"Jethro." Jenny groaned at the force of his body against hers, grateful that she hadn't lost her balance. "You can," she whispered, encircling her arms around him and rubbing his back. "I know you can."

"I want Kelly," Gibbs uttered sincerely as his face twisted in anguish and pain.

"I know," was her velvety reply as she held onto him tightly. Jenny closed her eyes and swallowed hard to fight the waterworks forming behind her own eyes. A stray tear rolled down her cheek when she felt his hot droplets of torment and grief releasing against her neck. Jethro put his arms around her, pulling her closer to him and rubbing his face into her chest. She kissed the crown of his head and continued rubbing his back. Her breath hitched when she felt the baby wriggle inside of her, and she knew that he'd felt the movement too. "C'mon, Jethro," she urged gently, uncertain of how he'd react. He was inebriated, and she didn't want to feel the sting of rejection.

He kissed her collarbone and slid his hand to rest over her swollen abdomen. Silently, she watched him and wondered what was going through his mind. After all, their daughter was still in the womb and had already given her father a crisis. Jethro felt his child moving underneath his hand and cleared his throat. "I don't want to forget Kelly," he said hoarsely and honestly, finally verbalizing what he had been worrying about for so long.

Immediately, Jenny moved her hands to his face and tilted his head up to look at her. She cupped his cheeks and locked eyes with him. "You don't have to. I don't want you to," she told him earnestly. "This baby is not a replacement, Jethro. I want you to tell her about her big sister. I want her to know Kelly."

Jethro rested his forehead against hers and let out a deep, ragged bourbon scented breath. Jenny ran her fingers through his hair, letting her nails scratch at his scalp and hoping that would further relax him. He let his hands fall to her hips, squeezing gently. She rested her hand on the back of his neck. "Will you do that for me? Will you tell her about Kelly?"

He lifted his head and nodded solemnly. Jenny smiled softly as her fingers began to knead the tension from his neck. "I need you. I can't do this without you, Jethro."

"You won't, Jen," he spoke huskily and kissed her forehead.

She smiled warmly at him, relief washing over her, and grasped his hand. "I'm not letting you sleep it off in the hull of the boat either," she informed him, tugging on his hand and leading him slowly to the stairs. Gibbs stopped short near the base of the stairs and turned to look at the old cassette player lying on the worktable. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he thought about how he'd tell his little girl arriving in several weeks about her big sister who she'd never get the chance to meet.

* * *

><p>At the beginning of the night, Jethro had thought they'd never get out of Blockbuster. Pregnancy seemed to make Jennifer Shepard exasperatingly indecisive. He never thought she'd choose two movies, or she was going to break their agreement of choosing two films each for their date night of rented movies and Chinese take-out. Thankfully, Jenny had made a decision and picked <em>Stuart Little <em>and _Notting Hill_. She balked at his choice of _Air Force One _since they'd both seen that one, but she was interested in his pick of _Sleepy Hollow_. Gibbs smirked and finished off his can of Coke, carefully shifting his arm out from under his auburn haired sofa companion and kissing her temple as she lightly snored. He had finally calmed her down from her emotional outburst over the ending of _Stuart Little_. After a long battle, she had drifted off to sleep before the final movie had come to an end.

Jethro didn't move a muscle when Jenny shifted from her snug spot in between him and the back of the couch. She opened her eyes briefly and burrowed deeper into the comfort and warmth of his side, rubbing her face against the soft worn cotton of his old NIS t-shirt. He smiled softly and pulled a blanket over them, thinking he'd wake her up in an hour or two or just simply carry her up to bed. While Jenny snored, he flipped through the television channels until his phone rang, breaking the silence. "Dammit," Jethro muttered and flipped it open quickly as to try and not wake up the sleeping redhead beside him. "Yeah, Gibbs," he spoke into the phone as quietly as he could.

"Hey boss," Tony said cheerily, praying he wouldn't incur the wrath of Leroy Jethro Gibbs for calling after 2200 on a Friday night.

"What do you want, DiNozzo?"

"I was wondering if I could stay at your place over the weekend. I know I messed up last time, but uh," the very special agent paused. "Is that Jenny? Is she snoring? She snores!" he burst into laughter and quickly heard a dial tone buzzing in his ear.

"Who was that?" Jenny asked sleepily, her words slightly slurred, running her slender hand over Jethro's well-built chest.

"DiNozzo," he answered in a whisper as he rubbed her back. "Go back to sleep, Jen."

She shook her head but still had her eyes shut. "Not tired," she mumbled ironically as she stifled a yawn.

"Uh huh," Gibbs replied. He waited for her to fall into the arms of slumber again, and he shut his phone off for the night to prevent another interruption. There wouldn't be any more phone calls from DiNozzo or anyone else. For the next hour, Jethro watched several boring infomercials and covered his mouth when he yawned.

In her sleep, Jenny nudged her body closer into his and moved her head to rest directly over his heart. He smiled at that little habit of hers. In a few moments, Gibbs felt the rolls and flutters from his unborn daughter. He glanced at Jenny to make sure she was utterly sound asleep before clearing his throat softly. "Hey," Jethro whispered, gently touching the swell of Jenny's abdomen. "Your mom's asleep, so it's just us," he said, nervous at the prospect of Jenny waking up and catching him in deep conversation with their unborn daughter. She'd either find it silly or heartwarming. If it were the latter, he'd have another sobbing mess on his hands. He cleared his throat a second time, cursing himself for his panicky behavior. "I want to tell you about your big sister, Kelly," he finished tenderly, biting his bottom lip as his eyes watered at the memories that flooded into his mind. Jethro swallowed hard as he felt the baby's delicate movements – signs of life - underneath his rough, calloused hand. Until now, he didn't realize how difficult it would be to truly talk about his first daughter with his second one. Gibbs took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and shutting his eyes slightly. "Her eyes were blue like mine. Kelly looked a lot like me. Maybe you won't take after me. If you look like your mom, I'm not letting you date until you're thirty or older," he stated, laughing at himself as he imagined just what Jenny would say if she heard that leave his lips. "You'll hate me, but I'm gonna keep you away from boys for as long as I can." Jethro paused as Jenny stirred, moving her legs to tangle in his and pressing her icy toes against his calves. He sucked in his breath and pulled the blanket over her feet and legs to keep her warm. "And another thing, you're gonna always wear socks. I don't care if it's summer," he told his daughter and then realized he'd veered off task. "Your sister was born in August of '83. You're coming in June," Gibbs stopped abruptly. Kelly would be seventeen years old. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes lowered sadly, and he rested his head against the arm of the sofa, staring at the ceiling for more than a few minutes as he gathered himself.

"I wasn't around for her like I should have been," Jethro admitted the ageless guilt he felt for being deployed. He wasn't there when Kelly came into the world, and he wasn't there to stop her or Shannon from leaving this world all too soon. "I promise I won't miss anything with you," he concluded, smoothing his hand over Jenny's abdomen.


End file.
